I'll Love You Better Now
by FairyTale87
Summary: What if Daniel hadn't defended his father during the 1x19 interview? "Somehow, someway, the truth will come out, and when it does, all I'll have to say is good riddance".
1. Truth is Stranger than Fiction

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_One _

'_Truth is Stranger than Fiction' _

The interviewer tapped her pen on the notebook paper she had on her lap, eyeing Daniel with a look between sympathy and accusation. Forty-eight hours ago, he had been sitting in Rikers prison, the heavy weight of a first degree murder charge on his shoulders—Daniel couldn't be too surprised at Michelle Laney's… discomfort with sitting across from him. He supplied her with a pleasant smile before continuing to answer her question of if he'd killed Tyler Barrel. He couldn't ignore the slight pang that radiated through his chest. Had he killed Tyler or not? Wringing his hands together, he shooed away the eerie uncertainty.

"Listen, if anyone commits a crime, no matter who they are, he or she should pay for it," he said, giving a dark glance in his father's direction, before setting his eyes on Emily. Her golden hair was illuminated by the sun pouring in from the window, her curls bouncing the light this way and that with uncanny perfection. Emily gave him a supportive smile, careful not to make it too noticeable—Victoria was staring at her like a hawk about to swoop down to catch dinner.

"Speaking of which," Michelle Laney responded, Daniel returning his attention to her, "the SCC has issued an order of investigation on your family's company, Grayson Global; a company you stand to inherit. Would you like to comment on the allegations of corruption and fraud?" A slight little smirk found its way on to Michelle's face, and Daniel licked his lips. The moment of truth was here. He would either take the side of righteousness, or the side of loyalty. Whichever path he chose, he'd lose something important. Daniel breathed heavily, knowing his decision had already been made. His father, mother, and Grayson Global would not define him; too much of his life had been spent in this tug of war between expectations and true identity.

"Whatever the SCC finds, I'm sure Grayson Global had it coming to them." Daniel's face was stone, as he drummed his fingers on the white chair's armrest. Michelle Laney's face was shocked to put it lightly, her blue eyes clouding with confusion. Victoria Grayson was unnervingly unmoved by the answer, and Conrad looked about ready to faint. Betrayal, guilt, apprehension—it was all there, a sprawled mess on the usually cool tempered Conrad Grayson's features. But to Daniel's own shock, he didn't really care about his parents' reactions; his eyes lingered firmly on Emily, who bit her lip smiling, twisting her engagement ring approvingly on her finger. That was all the support he needed to know he'd made the right choice.

"Being heir apparent, aren't you all the least bit concerned about what the SCC's investigation uncovers?" Now Michelle was moving the pen in between her fingers, the black body of it standing out against her pale skin. Daniel stared at the movement for a moment or two, his entire mind empty. The walls around him didn't feel like home, and the family that circled the interview seemed forged. Had his entire life been one huge lie hidden behind fancy parties, luxurious vacations, and the illusions of a happy family? Hatred began to boil inside him. Any remorse lingering within the depths of his conscience was burnt to ashes.

"I would be more concerned if I'd inherited the company with crimes left unpunished. I don't think money and power can be put before justice and the truth," Daniel told her, his muscles growing tenser. All he wanted was for this interview to end, so he could run from this godforsaken house with Emily by his side, and never look back. Maybe the company would one day land in his hands, and he'd be able to build an empire based on trust and loyalty, rather than deals behind closed doors, and the bastardizing of all genuineness—but he wasn't about to count on it. He was done with the Graysons, and tired of lugging the weight of the name.

"Well," Michelle said clasping her hands together, "thank you so much for your time, Daniel." The camera was turned off then, and the plastered smile was finally gone from Michelle Laney's face. Daniel leaned his head on the back of his chair, his body buzzing with all the adrenaline. In less than five minutes, he'd successfully taken a stand against his parents, possibly shattered all hopes of Grayson Global lasting the year, and set the record straight. Sitting up straighter, he made eye contact with Emily. She mouthed an 'I love you' and he replied with his signature hybrid between a smirk and a smile, and raised his eyebrow slightly.

He stood up then, hoping the overly active nerves would calm a bit. Michelle walked over to him, and whispered, "It was refreshing to hear money isn't everything," and then went back to the cameraman and exited the room. Daniel stared at her, still numb by everything. Breathing shallowly, he could sense his father's presence behind him. Straightening his posture, and feeling the tendons in his shoulders stiffen, he turned to face him.

"I suppose I can't say I blame you for the side you chose," Conrad said rather stiffly, his blue eyes ice cold and unforgiving. Daniel didn't even flinch. His father had had his run of condescending remarks and obvious looks of disappointment.

"It's not about sides. There was only one right thing to do, and I did it. David Clarke was innocent, and you sent him to jail for life; and Amanda was so young, and you left her alone without a father—you ruined a perfectly good family's life, dad."

"And now you've just ruined ours," Conrad returned bitterly. His face was full of hatred, and Daniel knew he had just made an enemy out of his father. Yet for once, the look was not enough to send him crawling back to the Grayson way of life. Daniel might have the name, and the same DNA, but he was _not_ one of them.

"No, _you _did. You can't blame this on me; it's obvious you haven't learned your lesson from David Clarke. You and mom can't just go around pinning your mistakes on other people. Somehow, the truth will come out, and when it does, all I'll have to say is good riddance." Disgust filled Daniel's face, and he turned away from his father, making his way towards Emily. Conrad grabbed his son's wrist.

"We are not finished here, Daniel."

Daniel tugged his wrist free from Conrad's grasp, and eyed him bitterly. Never in his life would he have guessed he'd actually loathe his father—but then again, life was always full of surprises. "Yeah, we are."

Emily stood there, finding it hard to suppress her happiness. Daniel was officially on her side now, which meant her feelings weren't barriers anymore. In her eyes, Daniel was simply Daniel: not a Grayson, not a part of her plan; just the man she loved. It had taken her a while to fully realize and accept that truth, but after the interview, Emily was sure: Daniel was the one she loved, and where her future lied. The issue of how she'd stay close to the Graysons now wasn't even on her mind as Daniel approached her.

Placing his hand on her lower back, he curled her in to face him. "I'm sorry about all of this," he said, shaking his head. A sad little smile found its home on his lips, and she ran her pointer finger over the tips of his dark hair.

"Daniel, there's nothing to apologize for; you did the right thing." She knew that this was not the place to start this conversation. "We should go," she told him firmly, looking around at the people still standing in the room. All of them looked about ready to pounce. When she and Daniel talked about all of what had just transpired, she wanted to do it in the beach house; not in this hell in the form of a manor. There was no forgiveness here.

"Yes, you should," Conrad said darkly, walking up to the two of them. "You're no longer welcome." His eyes set like a deadly grenade on his son.

"Fine by me," Daniel returned coldly, and slipped his hand from Emily's back and laced their fingers together, guiding her to the door.

"Daniel, wait," Charlotte said desperately, running swiftly over to her brother, Victoria following closely behind. "Please don't go," she begged him, "I need you here." Charlotte ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to hold back her tears. She knew if Daniel walked out that door, he'd never come back. She wasn't losing him to Harvard or to the quaint house next door—she was losing her big brother forever. The thought was terrifying.

"Char," Daniel said quietly, taking his hand from Emily's, and running it over his sister's shoulder, "I can't be here anymore." The sadness was apparent in his voice, and he shook his head slowly. By now, Charlotte couldn't hold back the tears any longer and wrapped her arms tightly around Daniel's torso.

"Conrad, let's talk about this," Victoria said, turning to her soon to be ex-husband. Her dark eyes were pleading. Seeing both of her children in pain was more than she could take. She watched as Charlotte let go of Daniel, her body shaking and he, desperate to calm her. It was because of her and Conrad that her family was destructing from the center out; and Victoria knew it very well. For too many years she'd sat on the sidelines as Conrad made the ruling decisions; but this time, she would not stand down. There was nowhere left for Victoria Grayson to fall.

"He betrayed us; all of us." Conrad's voice was rising, and his face was growing redder with anger.

"He's your _son_, Conrad!" Victoria couldn't even bear to look at him right now. Not only had he thrown away her love, but he'd technically disowned his only son, and banished his daughter. The man was a monster. Whomever she'd fallen in love with all those years ago was gone; replaced with a demonic lookalike. When had everything gotten bad? Victoria felt herself crumbling on the inside, just how the powerful empire of Rome had.

"Some decisions cannot be forgiven," he replied coldly. Eyebrow slightly raised, and eyes haughtily filled with pride, he silently dared Victoria to try something. Conrad was in the mood to fight, and somehow someway, he'd get his battle.

"He's right, mom," Daniel told Victoria. "Both of you have done things that can never be forgiven, even with all the forgiveness in the world." He wanted to shake his parents, and ask what had compelled them to commit the horrors they did. But right now, the mere sight of Conrad and Victoria Grayson sickened him. He then turned his attention to Charlotte, empathy and love immersed completely into his caramel-chocolate eyes. Conrad followed his son's stare and breathed heavily.

"Go with them if you want, Charlotte," he told her darkly. Charlotte knew there was a silent 'and if you do, never come back', tagged on the end. Daniel was the only person who hadn't turned against her in some way though, and she felt safe with him… and most of all, happy. Emily and Daniel were more of a family to her than Conrad and Victoria could ever be. If she was completely honest with herself, it didn't even break her heart in this moment to think about never coming back—in fact, it was a relief. She knew her parents were her parents and she should love them, but it was the hardest task she'd ever been given.

"Okay then," Charlotte said dryly, her eyes hardening, "I'll go," she continued as she walked over with Daniel to Emily. "I'll be back to get my stuff," she finished in the aloofness her mother had mastered so expertly. Her shimmering lips were pursed in disappointment while she looked at her parents, and she leaned into Daniel just to make her choice even more apparent.

Emily looked at the two siblings, and it hit her how many times they must have imagined running away from Conrad and Victoria. She was sure they couldn't have been all bad; they had raised two perfectly wonderful children. But, that still did not even come close to salvaging all the wrong they had done over the years. Wrapping her fingers around Daniel's forearm softly, she bit her cheek and turned to him. He was staring at his mother, whose eyes were glistening with tears to the point they overflowed her tear ducts. It was not often that one saw a crying Victoria Grayson, but in the rare occasion, it couldn't help but be noticed that a tinge of humanity truly lied within her.

"Please, Daniel, Charlotte" she whispered weakly, "don't go. We are a family; we can worth this out. Just stay and we can talk everything out civilly." Her social suaveness was a dying an epic and fiery death as her world unraveled around her.

"It's too late for that," Daniel replied, finally reaching the door, and turning the knob. It felt to Victoria like a knife being twisted in her stomach as she watched her son, daughter, and soon to be daughter-in-law walk out of the house. She was paralyzed, and fragile, and broken—her eyes went to the floor, and her reflection appeared shattered in the shiny tiles.

* * *

"Charlotte," Daniel said softly once they had cleared Grayson property and entered onto the sandy beach, "you didn't have to leave." The second they'd crossed the threshold, he'd noticed the look of pain on his sister's face. It was obvious she'd wanted to leave, but Charlotte was still just a girl—her eighteenth birthday hadn't even come yet.

"I did, Danny," she replied, lifting her eyes to face him. "I haven't been able to stand mom for a long time, and dad, turns out to be just as bad as she is. I couldn't stay with them; all I want is to be with you and Emily." Looking past her brother she smiled in Emily's direction. The sun was swiftly going down, but she could still see Emily's glistening smile in return.

"You can stay with us for as long as you'd like," Emily told her, as she squeezed Daniel's hand. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and leaned in closer to her. With him and Charlotte on her side, Emily felt not only invincible, but somehow complete. If someone had told her last year that she'd find compassion and contentment with the Grayson children, she would have scoffed, and maybe even punched the person. But she supposed the truth had an odd way of clarifying everything; and the things she thought were clear, were now tossed up in the air.

* * *

So I've recently started Revenge, and I absolutely adore it. After watching 1x19 though, I knew I had to create an alternate outcome. I get Daniel wanted to protect his family and keep his loyalty, and I still love him, but I just couldn't stomach the way he stood up for his father. So, this is my way of venting my feelings about it. I'm still trying to get a handle on all of the characters, so please don't kill me if some are OOC; I'll try to get better at it, haha. I hope you all enjoyed it though, and that you review. If you all want me to, I'd love to continue this—and also, please oh please give me ideas! I'm not too positive of where I want to go from here.

_Reviews are love!_


	2. Harmonious Conception of Memory

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Two _

'_Harmonious Conception of Memory'_

The winds that had battered the beach house had calmed by morning, leaving nothing but the remembrance of a midnight sky turned into a battlefield. Rain had soaked through every morsel of sand, leaving it clumped together and an odd shade of tan. It was about nine in the morning now, and Emily was still the only one up: apparently late sleeping ran in the Grayson family. Wrapping her fingers around the seat of the porch swing, she leaned forward, inhaling the sea breeze. A grayish fog still hung over the sun, keeping the temperature at a cool fifty degrees or so. An odd temperature for an early February day, Emily was pleasantly surprised. No new snow fell, and the current white patches were beginning to melt slightly. The beach was becoming home again. Grinding her teeth for a moment, she ran a hand over the white paint job of the swing, watching as her engagement ring caught the morning's light. The strip of lovely sliver still felt foreign on her finger, and the marvelously cut diamond seemed a bitter joke; this couldn't be her life—Amanda Clarke didn't get happy endings.

But maybe Emily Throne did.

The thought made her hand stop suddenly. Everything she immersed herself in, had to do with the past; Amanda Clarke may very well have died in name, but her memory was far from gone. Emily's double infinity tattoo burned her skin with scorching fervidity, the black loopy lines like molten poison, making it impossible not to disintegrate in the present. The swing, the house, the beach, the Hamptons… none of it was new. Nolan and Jack kept her linked to the past, and Victoria and Conrad Grayson were the blaring reminders of past sins, settled right next door. The ring, and everything it was tied to, was the only reminder Emily had that this was a new era—life had the possibility to go on. But the longer she sat on the precious porch swing, built by Jack in the memory of her father, the more it seemed to beg her never to leave. The past kept her trapped, and a part of her didn't want to leave. Certainly she could attribute that pulling force to fear, but it was also the comfort. If she stayed in the past, she knew how the story ended, and how the current one would as well. The second she ventured away from the set path, that clarity would shatter into a million muddy pieces at her feet.

Daniel was worth it though; worth the change in course. So was Charlotte.

The two ideas engraved trails in her head, each looping and crossing over the other, making it so nothing was logical anymore. The past, the present; the present, the past—there was no stopping it. Finally gaining the strength to lift herself from the swing, she turned to face it, not able to hold back a glare. Her father's voice seemed to echo from the thick wood, beckoning her to become her history. There was no purity in the whiteness of the contraption, and Emily turned away swiftly before she could be pulled in again.

Opening the screen door, the rush of warm air reminded her of how cold it truly was outside. Her lavender sweater was nowhere near warm enough she realized, once the icy hairs on her arms began to tingle with gratitude at the newfound heat as the door closed. The coffeemaker on the kitchen counter looked all too appealing, and she decided a cup of warm hazelnut coffee was in order. The simplicities in life were what kept her from drowning in the complexities that overshadowed contentment. Coffee beans grinding, Emily heard footsteps coming from the stairs behind her. It was still an odd sensation to have others living with her. Astounding how isolation and silence could become the norm.

Daniel kept her from relapse though; he was warm and gentle—to be honest, he was quite like her father. They were the types that smiled and trusted, rather than frowning in skeptical thought: Emily needed that balance brought to her life. At one point, maybe she had been like her father; but innocence wasn't something well known to David Clarke's daughter. She never would have guessed Daniel Grayson would be the one to reintroduce her to the concept.

"I thought I heard you down here," Daniel said quietly as he walked into the kitchen. His hair was still a frazzled mess from a goodnight's sleep, and his eyes didn't seem to be completely noticing reality quite yet. He was a living memory of everything Emily had thought was gone forever.

"Did I wake you?" She asked with a slight laugh turning from the coffeemaker. Leaning her back against the counter, she gave him a playful smile.

"You're a notoriously early riser," he said as he walked closer to her, "and apparently it's contagious." Daniel wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, feeling the soft silky material of her sweater. His touch was a calming fire to her skin all too used to the cold.

"It's," she turned to look at the clock on the microwave, "nine-fifteen. I wouldn't call that early." Emily bit her bottom lip, placing her hands on his upper forearms. The muscles were taut and protective, despite their current relaxed condition.

"Trust me; it's early enough." Smiling that brilliant gleam of his, Emily couldn't help but mimic is expression. If the concept of freedom was ever known to Emily Throne, it was in the arms of Daniel Grayson.

Emily nodded in understanding. "So how are you doing with the whole craziness of yesterday?" A part of her was terrified to ask. What if he said he regretted it? She wouldn't lose him.

"Honestly, I'm still not convinced it happened." He laughed a tad. "Standing up to my parents is like fighting a woolly mammoth—it's basically impossible." His smile growing, he seemed to concede that he was hardly awake. Emily couldn't help but be amused.

"But you did it," she said supportively, "you became your own man." The reality made her heart flutter. How she'd gone that entire fateful 1995 summer without knowing him was beyond her.

"It's a relief, you know? For once in my life, I woke up not having a set future."

"Sort of feels like free falling," she commented. Her mind was whirling with her own battle between desires and plans. If Daniel could do it, why couldn't she? A part of her heart hardened; she wouldn't forgive. Lifting her head, she lingered on Daniel's sweet swirling eyes: they simply lived. They didn't scheme, or seek revenge, or hate more than love. She sunk into his embrace even more, praying some of his benevolence would seep into her.

"Exactly like that," he replied, resting his chin lightly on top of her head. The coffee was now running into the white and blue mug, the steam rising and encircling both of them. The warmth was a kind feeling, but it didn't match the tenderness Daniel provided to her. The coffeemaker stopped then.

"Did you want a cup?" She asked, grudgingly slipping out of Daniel's arms. Grabbing the hazelnut creamer from the fridge, she poured it into the mug until the coffee appeared almost white.

"A cup of what; coffee, or Coffee-Mate creamer?" He crossed his arms, smirking at her. Taking an exaggerated sip, Emily rolled her eyes at him.

"I like a bit of coffee in my creamer," she said sarcastically. "But really; I'd be happy to make you a cup."

"Sounds great; thank you Ems." Rubbing her arm, he then walked over to the stools set around the table in the kitchen. Elbows against the tabletop, and his foot hanging on the supporting horizontal column of the stool, he looked at her gently. "I wanted to thank you," he began.

"For what," she asked as she took another mug out of the cabinet above her. Placing it on the counter, she looked over her shoulder.

"Convincing me that I didn't have to become what my parents wanted me to be," he replied simply. There was something so genuine in his features, that it made Emily almost want to cry. Her father had had those sparkly eyes too, ready to take on every single miracle the day provided.

"I didn't convince you to do anything, Daniel, it was all you." She smiled at him, not a single muscle longing to tug it into a frown. Her fiancé curved his lip slightly in return.

"Well, you gave me the push, at least," he replied, sliding his elbows farther onto the table. Both of them turned towards the stairs then, when they heard the rushing footsteps of Charlotte Grayson. Dressed in a simplistic red sweater and skinny jeans, Daniel gave her a bare look.

"Didn't know they changed the uniform at Collins," he mentioned as his sister made her way into the kitchen. Charlotte froze for a second or two, before recovering her confidence.

"Oh, yeah, uh, I'm not going today," she said, trying not to make eye contact with Daniel. Leaning on the side of the table adjacent to her brother, she tapped her finger on the light green surface.

"Not going," Daniel echoed. "Charlotte, you have to. You've already missed three days this past week." He had heard bits and pieces of his mother's conversations with Charlotte over the past few days. Giving her a stern look, he compelled her to answer.

"What's one more day," she replied. "The headmaster knows there's issues with the divorce…"

"That shouldn't keep you from going to school though," Daniel insisted, giving a quick glance to Emily. She shrugged her shoulders, sliding the coffee with a touch of milk over to him. He smiled in a thank you before looking back to Charlotte.

"Please Danny, just let me have today." Her hazel eyes were pleading, and Daniel almost gave in right then and there. His goal wasn't to be her father; he just wanted what was best for his sister.

"This can't be a common thing, Char," he warned. "Education is the most important thing."

"I don't think I'll be missing any earth-shattering things today," she drawled. "Just please—let me stay here today."

"Three days is a lot to miss," Daniel stated, gripping the mug in his left hand.

"Ugh!" Charlotte let out in mild anger. Sitting her mug down on the table, Emily knew she had to step in.

"How about this," she started calmly, "you and I go shopping today if you promise to go to school tomorrow. Lunch, dinner… it's all your choice. But from here on out, there's no more skipping." The look Emily supplied conveyed the meaning of 'this is will be strictly enforced; don't try to break it'. Licking her lips, Charlotte nodded.

"Okay," she said quietly, "I'll go get my purse." Pushing off of the table, she made her way back up the stairs slowly. When she was out of sight, Daniel sighed.

"You did the right thing," she told him, walking around the table to wrap her arms over his chest. His steady heartbeat pulsated through her hand, and it felt like a lullaby from a long since lost dream.

"I don't want to be her enemy, but I also don't want her to make mistakes that could affect her whole life." Daniel shook his head sadly, taking a quick sip of coffee.

"Just let her cool off, Daniel; she'll come around. All seventeen year old girls get like this." An eerie feeling swarmed over Emily. She had a family now. A fiancé (soon to be husband) and a half sister she had to treat somewhat like a daughter. That free falling future was becoming more and more eminent. A small smile grew on her face.

"If you say so," he replied, leaning his head against her curved shoulder. Their bodies fit together perfectly. For once when she held him, it didn't feel like he'd disappear at any second.

"Ready," Charlotte called as she scurried down the stairs once more. Emily smiled at the eager teen. Linking arms with Emily, who had just unraveled herself from Daniel and grabbed her purse, Charlotte led her towards the door.

"You girls have fun," Daniel said with a smile, waving at the blonde and strawberry-esque brunette.

"We plan on it," Emily returned grinning, and Charlotte gave something that could be considered a smirk, and then closed the door.

The house was silent now, and Daniel tapped his mug on the table lightly. Emily and Charlotte were the two most precious things in his life: to have them both under the same roof as him was nothing short of a blessing. Staring at the clock on the stove, which had just transitioned to ten o'clock, he contemplated what to do with his day. He couldn't remember the last time he actually had a full day without some sort of scheduled event. Setting the mug on the table firmly, he left the kitchen and went to the living room.

In the far corner, was a white bookshelf stuffed far past its capacity. Kneeling down, he scanned the titles. James Patterson mysteries and Ken Follett thousand-page epics whizzed past Daniel's eyes, nothing necessarily catching his attention. His eyes then locked on a worn copy of Harper Lee's _To Kill a Mockingbird. _Carefully pulling it from its place on the shelf, he took it over with him to the couch. The pages were curved at the bottom, and yellowing dramatically—it had probably seen years of iffy conditions full of rings of wetness left from a sweating glass of liquid. Turning the book on its side, Daniel traced the spine, which had several deep-creased white lines zigzagging down it. It was a loved copy obviously, and he smiled tenderly. Since the first time he'd read the book, it had become an instant favorite of his—and due to the current conditions of this one, it seemed to be a favorite of Emily's as well. Living with Emily Throne had still not made everything crystal clear about her; it was something that lured Daniel to her. There were years of exploring and understanding left. Running a hand over the still glossy front cover, there was a knock at the door.

Sighing, Daniel placed the book carefully on the coffee table in front of him. As he walked to the door, he could see the profile of his mother. She looked oddly uncomfortable having to stand on the front porch, and Daniel bit his cheek. Gripping the knob, he leaned against the door for a moment to collect himself before opening it.

* * *

First of all, thank you so much to all who read, reviewed, and followed this story. You guys are all fantastic! So this chapter was a lot of me exploring the characters, so I'm sorry if it's kind of boring. I swear next chapter will have more excitement. Other than Charlotte and Emily shopping and whatever drama may come from that, and Daniel's conversation with Victoria, what else would you guys like to see happen? I'm completely open to ideas.

_Reviews are love! _


	3. Absolution That Will Never Come

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Three _

'_Absolution That Will Never Come' _

Dark circles plagued Victoria Grayson's skin around the eyes, and her deep swirling irises now had the company of red blotches, most likely from crying. Daniel couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his mother this distraught. His heart ached for her, and he longed to forgive her without a second thought. Her kind features weren't hidden by the spiked ice anymore, and the vulnerability was clear in the way her mouth curved into a trembling frown. Oh, Victoria Grayson—how the majestic fall.

Keeping his lips in a tight grimace though, he wouldn't lose his footing in this newfound world of freedom. He could practically smell the Grayson stench on her. He'd never noticed it before, but the longer he stayed away, the more apparent it became. The scent aimed to lure Daniel back into his mother's arms, but the reality of everything stood in the way of its success. Still standing on the porch, Victoria pulled her black coat tighter around her body. The wind was picking up, and the sky was threatening rain once more. Daniel tried not to falter, keeping his hand tightly on the door so not to embrace his mother.

"What do you want," Daniel asked dryly, his voice oddly making him more confident in his position. Emily's touch still lingered on his chest, and his heart seemed to beat faster at the reminder of her warmth. Victoria's almost ebony hair was a rude awakening to Daniel's eyes so used to the lithe blonde.

"Please, let me in, and I will tell you everything." It wasn't often Victoria had to fight for Daniel's support, so the task was quite unknown to her. He fit so perfectly in this little cottage by the beach, his pastel blue shirt reminding her of the ocean. Daniel was more like David than he was Conrad; it was something Victoria thanked God for daily. Her son had the incredible quality of morality—something that seemed to scarcely run in the Grayson family. The pain was apparent in his eyes, and she collapsed on the inside knowing she and Conrad were the reason. Daniel deserved so much more.

"I don't want your excuses," Daniel replied, his features still stone dead. His usually expressive face was subjected to the blandness of normalcy Victoria usually found herself caught in as well. It had become natural for her, but on Daniel it was still a foreign phenomenon. She longed to see her son's awe-striking smile.

"That's not why I'm here Daniel," she said softly, "just please, let me in." Victoria let her arms drop from around her waist, and she stood a little taller. Daniel sighed in defeat, moving out of the doorway to let her in. She cautiously stepped over the threshold, the wooden floors holding in secrecy all of her tender memories. Walking over to the couch in the living room, she heard Daniel shut the door rather harshly. Sitting down gingerly, her eyes scanned the house, taking in all they could. David's spirit still lingered. She closed her eyes lightly, momentarily, until she sensed Daniel sit in the chair next to her. Eyes flashing open, they were attracted to the glossy cover of _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

"Do you remember when I used to read this to you?" Victoria asked tenderly, picking up the book and caressing the spine. "You wouldn't let me read any other book," she laughed, turning to Daniel. There was still no forgiveness in his caramel eyes.

He remembered the times well. When he was little, Daniel had been convinced Conrad was Atticus Finch—underneath the suit, was superman. For years it was an illusion he loved to believe, but as innocence was smothered, so was the fantasy. His father was far from the heroic Atticus, and more accurately the unforgiving town of Maycomb. His glare deepened at the thought. Everything that was precious and sacred was burning before his eyes.

"I didn't let you in so you could tell me childhood stories," Daniel told her, and Victoria nodded, succumbing to her son's dark stare. He had a certain sway over her that even she could not explain. Her son was everything she'd hoped he'd be, and everything she'd thought Conrad was once upon a time. Daniel and Charlotte were the only things left in her life not completely corrupted by time and history.

"Of course not," she replied politely. "Daniel, do you know who it was that called the SEC?" Victoria dropped the book back on the table, crossing her legs like the queen she was. Daniel followed the novel's descent, his heart dying every millisecond it got closer to the coffee table.

"No," he said weakly, watching as the bent top cover flapped at the sudden contact with a sold surface. Daniel quickly retracted his eyes from the book, not wanting to draw his mother's attention to his weakness. She knew him all too well; there had to be some things he had solely to himself.

"I did," she replied, lifting her head a tad higher. "It's time all of this ended." It was a relief to say out loud, and she could feel David's smile on her back. She'd set the world right again, no matter if it destroyed her in the process. It was the least she could do to preserve the memory of love.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "You did," he echoed monotonously, "how heroic of you. But I think it's a little late for it now." He crossed his arms, trying desperately to analyze his mother's expression. He hadn't been blessed with her unreadable façades, and a part of him regretted it. Lying was not something that came easily to Daniel and the world he lived in thrived on it greedily.

"Later is better than never, Daniel," she countered softly. Her son had a mind of his own, but she hoped she still had some impact on his decisions. All she wanted was Daniel's love.

"Tell that to the families of those who died. You disrespected all of their memories by hiding the truth. While you and dad got to live your lives, the truth was left rotting in the cold graves of the 246 people you killed. Does calling the SEC _now _really make up for all of that?" Daniel shook his head in disgusted disbelief. How had Victoria been able to put on a benevolent face for him when he was young, when she had the deaths of two hundred plus people on her conscience? His eyes flickered down to his mother's hands, and they were coated in crimson blood; or, they should have been.

"No, it doesn't make up for any of it," she conceded, "but at least those families will finally have the peace they deserve." Daniel simply glared at her, not seeming to be speaking any time soon. Victoria inhaled shakily. He was slipping away from her—and rapidly so. She couldn't have expected anything other than that, but it still tore her heart to shreds. To have her own son look at her with such disappointment…

"Funny, isn't it," he motioned towards _To Kill a Mockingbird _which sat stagnant on the table, "how much David Clarke has in common with Tom Robinson. Both killed for crimes they didn't commit, while the true criminal got off freely because of power…" his voice trailed off, knowing his point was made. Victoria certainly looked taken aback, and for a split second he was sure he saw her true emotions in her eyes. But then it was gone. That was the magically puzzling thing about Victoria Grayson: no matter how well he thought he knew her, she never ceased to surprise him. She was unreadable to a fault. Daniel felt terrible for unnerving his mother, but the guilt was lulled by the truth of Flight 197. The image of the burning plane was enough to silence his instincts to run to her, forgiving.

"David was wrongly accused," she replied quietly. "You have to know I tried my hardest to prove his innocence. I never wanted him or Amanda to suffer." It was the truth, as raw and simplistic as it could get. She had been torn between loyalty and love, and somehow, the former had won out. That was not to say she loved David any less after that, but the silvery cold ring on her finger kept her from embracing that love fully. A mistake she regretted more and more with each second.

"And yet, the story ends a bit differently, doesn't it." Daniel licked his dry lips, the fire reigniting within him. "How much did you really try to save him," he asked, some tenderness returning to his voice. The anger still seethed its way through his veins, but his mother's look was so genuine; he had to let her tell her story. Daniel was not about ready to let his mother fall entirely.

"I went to Kingsley with evidence that would exonerate David Clarke, but Conrad's influence was so strong on him." Victoria knew her words did not prove her case very well, but it was the truth. Maybe she should have fought harder; maybe she shouldn't have taken no for an answer. But the past was concrete in its outcome, and there was nothing to do now but repent. She wouldn't fabricate anything more with Daniel or Charlotte. What good was love, if the whole truth wasn't on the table?

"There had to be something else you could have done," Daniel said desperately. He wanted—he _craved – _a reason to forgive his mother, but she hadn't presented him with anything that would sway his stance. _Please, say something—give me reason to forgive you. _

"Your father and I were blind and proud, Daniel," she replied, the weight of seventeen years of silence pressing on her heart. All her efforts and reasons which once seemed so sensible now lay before her in a pile of half-hearted actions spurred by a guilty conscience.

"So that's it then," he said darkly, rising from his seat. "That's all the effort you gave." Face grim and eyes condemning, he continued, "I'm sorry mom, but that doesn't change how I feel about any of this." He began to walk towards the door, and Victoria knew it was her cue to leave. Body still paralyzed by the sensations of David's presence and the distance of her son, she somehow made her way to her feet.

"We didn't do enough all those years ago, but maybe you can salvage it now. You can make Grayson Global genuine again, and—" her voice cracked when she thought of her precious daughter, "and give Charlotte a home without lies." Victoria breathed heavily. "Tell her that I love her, will you?" The small courageous smile that had been creeping onto her face broke horrifically, and everything inside of her was vacant. Charlotte loathed her, Daniel was swiftly going down the path to, and Conrad hadn't truly loved her for years. Victoria was alone and fragile, and nobody seemed to notice. The consequences of being the ice queen.

"I'll tell her," Daniel said quietly, feeling his mother's heartbreak with full force. All she wanted was absolution, but it would not come from him—it couldn't. She may be his mother, but that did not wipe away the atrocities she committed.

"You made the right decision yesterday," she said softly, praying he'd at least accept her words as the truth. He had done the most courageous thing she could think of; it's not easy staying true to morals when the world around you bathes in baths of gluttony and pride—especially when the sensation is so sensual.

Daniel couldn't hide the tiny shadow of a smile on his lips, and he nodded. "Thank you," was all he said in reply, and then opened the door slowly. Somehow Victoria had thought the comment would have been enough to soften her son, but obviously that had not been the outcome. So long as he knew she was on his side, there was nothing else she could ask for. Stiffly, and grudgingly, she walked out of the door, the tingly feeling of David Clarke gone. Victoria was returned to her world of lonesome shadows and cold. The drizzling rain quickly became heavier, and the sky transformed into a black abyss. She'd always been a firm believer that water was the healer of all memories, but today, it seemed more likely to be the acid poured on an already throbbing wound. Welcome to the kingdom of Victoria Grayson.

* * *

"Daniel's only trying to do what's best for you," Emily said to Charlotte once they were seated in the tiny restaurant of La Pittoresque. "I'd cut him a little slack," she advised with a sympathetic smile. The young Grayson twirled her fork on the simple white tablecloth, admiring it as it shimmered in the light.

"I know he is, and I love him for that. But I don't want another father—I want my brother." Charlotte slowed her twirling, and looked at Emily simplistically. She was so elegant as she sat there, her lavender sweater accentuating her soft features. What Charlotte would give to have that sort of perfection and grace.

"I understand," Emily said, leaning her elbows on the corner of the table, her voice benevolent. "But you can't blame him for wanting to protect you. You're lucky to have someone like him watching over you." Emily made it sound so easy; her love for Daniel Grayson was blissfully in her tone. Charlotte felt a warmness overtake her chest: she'd always hoped her brother would meet someone who cared passionately about him, and she was sure Emily was that woman.

"I know this sounds crazy, but I'm scared that if he does do that, he'll turn out just like my parents. I'm sure somewhere along the way their intentions were good, but in the end they turned on me. Declan did too," she told her timidly, her heart still in mourning over the loss of the beloved Porter. Emily's slight smile flat-lined and she looked tenderly towards her half sister. Charlotte's usually shimmering lips appeared lackluster and forgotten.

"I'm sorry about you and Declan," she began, "it's hard to get over someone like that. Trust me; I've had plenty of experience. I know it's not something you want to hear, but there will be others, Charlotte. Maybe Declan just wasn't that right person." Empathy swarmed in her eyes. It had taken years for her to get over Jack—and a part of her wasn't even positive the feelings were completely gone. His presence reminded her of the blitheness of her early history, and it was a feeling she craved with all of her heart. She moved her thumb over her engagement ring slowly.

"There's no one like him, Emily," Charlotte said, her eyes becoming dazzled, her voice drifting, "he's so—Declan; and that's what I love about him. It's like you and Daniel. We just fit so perfectly, and he brought out the best in me. Now that he's gone, I don't know; nothing seems right." Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to collect her thoughts. "When you first met Daniel, what was it like?"

Emily paused at the question, before a blissful grin overtook her face. "It was like—like everything was put in order. He made everything so clear, and he reminded me that the future is unpredictable." She stopped then, feeling herself starting to rant. "Was it something like that when you met Declan?"

"Something like that," she echoed with a humble smile, finally putting the fork down. "I just want that kind of happiness, I guess. Do you think I was wrong for breaking up with him?" Charlotte looked to Emily expectantly, her eyes seeming to need a certain answer.

"No, not at all," she replied. "You made a choice for reasons you thought were right; there's nothing wrong in that." Her words were as much for Charlotte as they were for her. She loved Daniel; honestly, fully, genuinely, and unconditionally. But her father's memory and his parents' sins made it impossible for her to do so without guilt. There was a never-ending supply of hurdles down the path of revenge. Some days, when Daniel's eyes looked at her with such love, she wanted to call off the dogs and simply settle down. But forgiveness had never been something Amanda Clarke was able to do easily.

"He betrayed me; he wasn't on my side. How could I stay with someone that almost got my brother sent to jail? I mean I know it was my fault, but he made it worse. I shouldn't love someone who hurt my family. Should I?" Charlotte's mind was whirling, and she wanted to fall apart. Declan made her feel so many things all at once, that it was a hurricane of emotion she couldn't quite handle.

"Sometimes," Emily told her gently, "the toughest loves are the best loves. He only did what he thought would help you; maybe the end product wasn't one any of us wanted, but I would never doubt that he did it out of love. So maybe you should love him, maybe you shouldn't. Only you can make that choice." Emily shrugged her shoulders, her words cooling her own blood. Her dilemma was so eerily similar to Charlotte's, yet she'd advised her sister on the side of love. Why couldn't she take that same side for herself? _Love doesn't just last forever, Amanda, it's for double infinity. No matter what, remember that's the most important thing. _Sliding her ring up and down her finger, the movement reminded her of Daniel's touch.

Charlotte sighed in return, her mind too boggled to reply to Emily's statement. "Do you think after we shop for a while we could stop back at the Manor so I can get some things?" Her heart dropped to her stomach, but she knew she'd have to face her parents sooner or later. Victoria and Conrad were not ones to be avoided.

"Of course."

* * *

So I'm paranoid about how I wrote Victoria; please don't be too harsh, but I do want to know if you think she's too OOC. Also, I promise the plot will be picking up soon; I just always love to delve into characters before getting too into plot. Nonetheless, I hope you all enjoyed it, and I'm still open to any ideas. Happy Halloween to all who celebrate, and even those who don't, and I thank you again for all of your reviews, follows, and favorites!

_Reviews are love! _


	4. I Am Courage, Hear Me Roar

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Four_

'_I Am Courage, Hear Me Roar' _

"Looks like it's stopped raining," Emily said, motioning towards the window they were sitting by in La Pittoresque. The sky still graying ebony, there didn't seem to be much time before the next bout of rain. Charlotte had become anxious the second she'd asked to go back to her parents' house, and Emily knew she was only delaying the inevitable. Charlotte would have to face her parents at some point or another, and sooner was probably better than later. The weather could not be an excuse; there was no way they could hide in the restaurant forever. Emily was well aware of the tense cyclone her sister would be walking into when they went to Grayson Manor, but she felt this was the calm before the storm; it only would get worse with time. Domestic confrontation was where the most brutal battle scars came from, and there was no way she could protect Charlotte from that fate. She'd learned the consequences of family years ago, but somehow it was always worth fighting for. She only hoped Charlotte could see that too, soon.

"Yeah, it does," Charlotte replied. She'd begun to spin her fork again, and still stared at its silver body as it caught the artificial light. Surrounded by white walls and tablecloths, it was like nothing could hurt her here. There was a barrier of purity that kept out the arsenic of her parents and all the leeches like them. _Like her. _It had never really occurred to her that she was a Grayson, in the sense she carried every connotation of the name. Wealth, questionable motives, greedy intentions, and icy demeanor—they were all there within her, one way or another. She hated herself for it, but it's hard to self destruct when your instinct is to keep fighting. Her enemies were her own blood, and her veins seemed to swell with the burdening reality. "Did you want to get going?" She asked, meeting Emily's hazel eyes.

"It's probably going to rain again soon, so we should leave now before we get drenched." Emily's smile was an easy one, as if trying to lighten Charlotte's mood. She saw Daniel's lithe eyes when she looked at her, and her righteous desires dissipated. They were Victoria's eyes. How could Emily love the Grayson children? They were the happiness Victoria got when her father fell. She kept her smile as unfaltering as possible.

"Then let's go," Charlotte agreed as she dropped her fork on the table. She was nowhere near confident, but at least she wasn't hiding. Emily set down some money for the tip, and then they got up to leave.

"Where to first?" Emily asked, as she opened the door for Charlotte. The Grayson turned around, her uniquely colored hair whipping to her side. The girl was peaceful in a way. Odd to explain, there was something in her movements that was poetic. It was the same elegance Victoria had, just less distorted and brutalized. The more Emily fell in love with Daniel and Charlotte, the more she seemed to realize she inadvertently loved Victoria. Maybe her father hadn't been completely misguided in loving the woman.

"Tiffany's is closest," Charlotte reasoned, beginning to walk down the perfectly paved sidewalk. The wealthy certainly did require the best. They were growing closer to Montauk, which meant Jack, Declan, and the Stowaway. Charlotte didn't seem to notice and continued to walk to Tiffany's. The jewelry store was in an odd location for something so popular. Nothing really around it but some family owned restaurants and the Stowaway a block or so down the road, Tiffany's was isolated. Emily could not even begin to understand it.

"You know what, Emily," Charlotte commented, was they walked into the store, "I feel bad. Daniel should be with us." Twirling a piece of her hair around a finger, she looked to Emily, who smiled in pleasant surprise.

"What's with the sudden change?" Tilting her head to the side, she placed a hand on the display case behind her.

"I was thinking about what you said during lunch, and you're right. He _is_ only trying to help me. I overreacted this morning." Charlotte loved her brother more than life itself, and she didn't want him mad at her or vice versa. A silent part of her worried about the dormant Conradness that was sure to lie within him, but she couldn't let that get in the way of her loving who he really was. No regrets.

"I'll call him," Emily said, "you go start to look around." Already reaching for her phone, she watched as Charlotte went into the sea of jewelry. Pressing speed dial number two, Daniel's name popped up on her screen. Ringing a good five times, Emily was slightly worried. Her fiancée seemed to always have his phone at the ready, despite the situation.

"Hey Emily," Daniel finally answered rather distantly, and Emily clenched her phone a bit tighter.

"Hi there. Are you okay? You sound kind of distant." Wrapping her left arm over her torso, she was now leaning her back on the display case. In all the time she'd known Daniel, there had only been one or two times he hadn't been his agreeable self. She could officially count this as the third.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." He gave a light laugh—or, more accurately, an attempt at one. He sighed. "My mother came to the house today," he said guardedly. Emily froze over. Her defensiveness of Daniel was showing through her thick layers; it was obvious Victoria's visit had left an uneasy impression on him. She tapped her index finger on the back of her phone.

"What did she say?" After Daniel had defied his father, it seemed as if a sleeping giant had been awoken. Emily knew there'd be repercussions; she just hoped they wouldn't be from Victoria. Conrad perhaps, but his wife was more of a threat: she was Queen Victoria; the queen who needed no king.

"She's the one that called the SEC, Ems," Daniel told her weakly, his strong stances seeming to tumble in hazardous numbers. "She wants to fix things."

"Daniel," Emily replied lightly, empathy infusing her tone; "you know it's not that simple." She could remember those torturous years of thinking her father guilty, while still insistent on his innocence. There's a sacred bond between parent and child that not even morals can break. She understood Daniel completely, but she wanted him to stay true to what was right. Love was a dangerous game for Amanda Clarke to play, and with Daniel, she'd put herself on the frontlines. _Please don't leave. _

"I know, I know. I just—she got to me. I still don't forgive her or my father, but at least she did _something_, right? God, I don't know; I'm just so confused." Emily could imagine him pacing back and forth across the living room, mind reeling with what he was supposed to do. She bit her lip, twisting her ring around her finger. It had become cold in the hours since she'd left Daniel.

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, "it's a tough situation. I actually called to invite you to join me and Charlotte, and now I insist." Emily laughed a tad. "We can talk about all of this once you get here." She wanted him in her arms; there was something so forlorn in him dealing with Victoria's visit all by himself. The Graysons may be her enemies, but Daniel certainly was not.

"What about Charlotte," Daniel asked, still thinking about what she'd said earlier that day. The siblings' relationship was a tender one. Emily couldn't help but feel jealous.

"It was her idea." It livened Emily's heart to tell him that. Her recent streak of happiness was a welcomed change from the lonesome scheming. Daniel and Charlotte brought her back to the idea of family, and it couldn't help but promote innocence. Revenge, for once, was on the backburner. She was free.

Daniel laughed, genuinely so. So soulful and kind, Emily felt herself melting. "Alright, I'll be there soon. Where should I meet you guys?" Always distracted by his handsomeness, she never noticed just how beautiful his voice was until she spoke with him on the phone. Simplistically there in its tenor two home, it was a song without perversions by society. It amazed her how untainted Daniel Grayson was, given who is parents were. They say evil skips a generation…

"Tiffany's," Emily replied. "Come quickly." Suppressing a giggle, she heard Daniel reply with an 'okay' accompanied by a laugh. It was beginning to sprinkle outside as she hung up the phone, but as the drops hit the pavement the feeling was liberation rather than despair. As hard as she tried not to, Daniel's influence was encompassing her. When she was little, her father had told her that it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. She'd never seen what was so courageous about that until she met Daniel Grayson. He was the scariest thing she'd ever faced—but she'd hold on forever. She wouldn't run from love this time.

* * *

Chapter four, woohoo! Sorry this one is a little short: school is hell right now, so I made this a filler chapter. Drama will be in the coming chapters, so I wanted to take my time with that. Hope you all enjoy this though! By the way, thank you to my reviewers au, SkullGaudess, and Guest, who do not have FanFiction accounts. I wanted to thank you guys for supporting this story in my Author's Note, since I can't PM you to thank you. (:

_Reviews are love! _


	5. When Devils Don't Turn to Dust

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Five _

'_When Devils Don't Turn to Dust'_

The drizzling was growing into a steady rainfall by the time Daniel had reached Tiffany's. Oddly enough for a Monday afternoon, there had been no parking anywhere close. His pastel blue shirt speckled with deeper indigo, he wiped the droplets from his forearms before walking into the store. Amongst the people roaming the aisles and ogling over the shimmering jewelry, he spotted Emily and Charlotte. They were always so content around each other. Fitting together like two pieces of a now complete puzzle, he was almost afraid to go up to them and interrupt their moment. He lingered by the entrance, spinning his key ring around his left index finger, simply looking at the two wonderful girls. Blonde and light brown melded in friendly harmony—his almost black hair would surely break that bond. But then Charlotte noticed his presence, and ran over, civilly of course, to him. Emily followed amusingly behind. Wrapping her arms eagerly around his waist, Charlotte almost made Daniel fall backwards. Luckily, his legs stood firm and he accepted her embrace, laughing.

"I'm sorry for what I said this morning," she said into Daniel's chest. He stroked her long hair comfortingly; just happy she was back in his arms. Her tiny body had been his reassurance for so many years—when he felt lost and alone around his parents, he could always count on Charlotte's smiling face to be there. He hugged her tighter for a moment before letting her go.

"It's okay," he replied kindly, "I shouldn't have been so overbearing." Holding her left arm in her right hand, she nodded to him. His caramel swirled eyes looked at her with a sort of love her parents had never been able to offer. Daniel Grayson was every tiny particle of goodness within Victoria and Conrad, and Charlotte was overjoyed to have him looking at her approvingly. In her imagination her parents also shared his graceful gaze.

"You were just trying to help," Charlotte told him brightly, following his gaze which was now moving over to Emily. It was not the kind of aversion that made her feel like she was being ignored; Daniel could never make her feel that way. All Charlotte longed for was the day someone would look at her like her brother looked at Emily. _Declan had._ She shook the thought from her mind. The younger Porter would _not _ruin her day. Keeping her bashful smile on her face, she moved out of Daniel's way so Emily could walk up to him.

Emily turned to Charlotte with a smile for a thank you, and then placed her hand on Daniel's upper arm. "You doing okay?" Her concern was genuine, and she searched Daniel's eyes. They weren't as shattered as she'd expected them to be, but she could notice the wounds that plagued them. He shifted his gaze to Charlotte momentarily, who looked slightly puzzled. Returning to Emily, he kissed her gently.

"I'm fine," he said pleasantly, obviously not wanting to get into detail before he told Charlotte what was going on. Emily nodded to him, slipping her hand from his arm to his hand. He laced their fingers, turning the two of them slightly to face Charlotte.

"What's going on?" Charlotte wasn't terrified or paranoid, simply being her curious self. Cocking her head to the side, she waited for one of them to reply. Whatever Emily had asked Daniel about, it certainly had left him feeling mildly uncomfortable. He ran his right hand through his hair, making it spike a bit in the front. It made him even more innocent than he already was, and it cracked Emily's heart. Daniel shouldn't have to deal with the sins of his parents—it wasn't something he or Charlotte deserved.

"Mom came to visit today," he told Charlotte gently. Her eyes seemed to freeze over, and it took all of Daniel's might not to apologize profusely for even bringing the matter up. His sister was strong though—she recovered herself quickly, attempting to bring some light back into her features. Daniel hated his mother right now for making Charlotte so calloused; all she'd ever done was love her. Why was that not enough?

"What did she want," she asked flatly. Emily felt Daniel hold her hand a bit tighter, and she ran her thumb soothingly over the back of his hand. His fingers loosened, and he breathed deeply.

"She wanted me to tell you she loved you," Daniel said weakly. He knew if he brought up David Clarke it would only darken Charlotte's already foul mood. At some point he'd tell her the full extent of Victoria's conversation with him, but for right now all that mattered was what his mother had asked him to tell her. That didn't seem to be enough for Charlotte though.

"Yeah right," she returned. Crossing her arms, her muscles started to tremble slightly. The topic of her mother made her sick. How could the woman that supposedly loved her look so dead around her? How could she have said her daughter should have never been born? If this was a mother's love, Charlotte wanted no part of it.

"She really does love you, Charlotte," Daniel said soothingly. The fair girl was still breaking in front of him though, and there was no pause button for it. A seventeen year old girl shouldn't know so much about loss.

"Totally explains why she said she wished I'd never been born," Charlotte commented in dull sarcasm. Daniel darkened. He'd heard about the fiasco of the mother-daughter gala, but neither his mother nor his sister had ever gone into detail of the matter. He figured the only way his mother would let this evil news slip would be in the leaked counseling tapes. Now his fingers were steel around Emily's hand, but there was no way she could blame him. Daniel's eyes were unforgiving fire, and for the first time ever, Emily was utterly terrified of him. Deep within Daniel Grayson, under the layers of acceptance, mildness, and kindness, laid the wrathful protection Victoria had so keenly mastered. One of the few qualities Emily praised Victoria for; it was invigorating to find it within her Daniel as well. When he wanted to be, he appeared indestructible.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk about this," Emily commented softly before Daniel could completely become ablaze. Tiffany's customers had begun to direct their attention at the three of them, and the manager looked about ready to kick them out. They had been standing in the doorway for so long; they had to have looked suspicious. Daniel took his hand from Emily's and rubbed his face to calm is anger.

"You're right, you're right," Daniel muttered. They all looked to the window, and saw that it was absolutely pouring now. It would be a good five blocks before they reached either of their cars, and none of the restaurants around were open yet. The only placed that left in close proximity was the Stowaway.

"Stowaway's the closest," Emily said rather apologetically. Charlotte's face paled at the thought of having to face Declan, and Daniel's eyes grew blacker, knowing he'd have to silently fight off Jack to keep him away from Emily. And poor Emily felt Amanda Clarke's childhood love for the Porter boy bubbling in her heart. She twisted her ring around her finger to remind her who she was now. Neither Emily nor Daniel wanted to admit their distain of going to the Stowaway, so they looked to Charlotte to make the decision.

She sighed, too numb to really care. Her mother, a vacant 'I love you'… why not add Declan to the mix? "Fine," she said grudgingly. Crossing her arms she made her way swiftly out the door and walked briskly to the Stowaway. Daniel and Emily followed quickly.

"How the hell could my mother say that to her," Daniel asked in angered disbelief, and Emily shrugged her shoulders sympathetically.

"I don't know, Daniel," she said. The rain was drenching them horrifically, and for once Emily was grateful to have the Stowaway so close. The little 'Open' sign was hanging in the door, and the three of them walked in. There were more people there than usual on a sleepy weekday afternoon, and the two girls looked confused.

"Giants game is on today," he informed them blandly before snatching a bar stool near the entrance. One more was vacant beside it, and he pulled it out for Charlotte, giving his to Emily. The girls took their seats, thanking him quietly. The tension was undeniably high, and no one felt strong enough to speak. Whether out of anger or out of fear, the silence was still looming ominously.

"Emily, hi," Jack greeted as he walked over to them. He had to do a double take before he even noticed Charlotte and Daniel with her. Even with Daniel's intense glare burning him from next to Emily, her perfect features kept him from noticing. From the moment Jack had met her, she'd looked familiar. Those light brown eyes with the fleck of golden were like something from a dream of his, but he couldn't quite figure out why. She probed his memory with her expressive lips, and taunted his lustful heart. Jack could not deny the giddiness he felt as he looked at her, until his eyes caught the flawless sparkle of the diamond on her left hand. It threw him back into reality, and he couldn't escape Daniel's fiery stare any longer.

"Hi," she said shyly, a smile forcing its way onto her face despite her desperate attempt not to. Emily ran her finger down Daniel's arm though, to reassure him, and herself, of her love for him. When her finger reached his hand, he caught it in between his index finger and thumb. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from giggling. Even with Jack's luminous presence, Daniel still made her feel whole. Maybe the past wasn't the only place where comfort was.

Jack smiled at her. "Charlotte, Daniel," he nodded in greeting. The younger Grayson forced as happy a smile as she could muster, and her brother simply curved his lip a tad, hiding his bitterness by tapping his right hand on the bar table. "What can I get you guys?" It was only twelve or so in the afternoon, so Jack prayed Daniel didn't ask for alcohol. After the last time he'd encountered the Grayson with the liquid poison, the night had not ended well.

"Diet Coke for me please," Charlotte said, and Jack nodded, his blue eyes still glittering in Emily's direction.

"Just water for me," Daniel requested dully, turning his attention to the TV on the other side of the bar.

"_In breaking news, the investigation of the multi-billion dollar company Grayson Global has ended." _Daniel tapped Emily's arm, motioning towards the TV. Emily moved her eyes from Jack's, and looked to the screen. _"The SEC's lead investigator Laura Berkshire speaks with us now." _Emily felt sick.

"_Whatever evidence there may have been tying Grayson Global to the downing of Flight 197, the SEC could not find anything. In our eyes, the company is innocent of all allegations against it." _

"No," Daniel muttered, "no! How could they not have found anything?" He looked to Emily, who appeared just as angry and pale. Luckily for her, Daniel was fuming enough for the both of them. It would appear too odd if she cared as much as her fiancée about the whole thing. _Stick to your role, Amanda. _

"I don't know," she said hollowly, "it doesn't make much sense." By now, Charlotte had leaned in closer to Daniel, feeling left in the dark about the whole thing. All she knew was what she'd heard in the interview—which sadly to her wasn't much. She hoped that once Daniel calmed down and Emily was less distraught, they'd let her in on the truth. For right now though, she'd just be there for support.

"He _admitted _it to me, Emily. He couldn't have hid all of the evidence," Daniel said, using every bit of strength not to yell and slam his fists on the table. Conrad Grayson was a wretch of a man, too conniving to receive the punishments for his crimes. Daniel could feel his molten acid blood running through him; it was _Conrad's _blood. He wished he could rid himself of the pestilence, but it was locked deep inside him. Clenching his hands, he tried not to tremble. By now, Jack was getting their drinks as slowly as possible, making a Shirley Temple for Emily. It had always been Amanda's favorite, and with his absent childhood love, Emily would have to be his reminder. Somehow, she seemed the perfect alternative.

Emily's phone buzzed right before she was about to speak. _Looks like Conrad slithered himself out of punishment yet again_. Nolan's words burned into her eyes, and she swallowed thickly.

_My house in an hour. _Putting her phone back on the table, she turned to Daniel. "There has to be some reason," she told him. For some reason she felt she couldn't come right out and agree with him. Because in Daniel's mind, Emily still didn't know the full truth. Burdening for her though, Amanda Clarke did.

"Here you are," Jack said as he placed the drinks in front of them. Emily looked to him with surprise at the unordered drink. Jack caught her gaze, and smiled shyly. "Figured you needed a drink too. Hope this is okay." He nodded to the bubbling soda, and Emily nodded eagerly. With the past still buried underneath Conrad's lies, it was nice to have some reminder of better days.

"It's perfect," she told him, and Jack reluctantly went back to the rest of his customers. Emily could feel Daniel's angered bitterness, and ran a hand down his back tenderly. "Everything's going to be alright, Daniel," she said gently, and he gave into her touch. Spinning his water slowly on the table, he felt Emily's phone buzz.

_Aye Aye, Captain. _Emily could just hear Nolan's drawling voice, and she tapped her phone on the table, thinking of what to reply with.

_Get me all you can find on a Laura Berkshire_, she replied to him, before looking back over to Daniel. The parts of his features that reminded her of Conrad seemed withered, and she placed her left hand gently on Daniel's arm, her right hand still gripping her phone.

Conrad Grayson could not escape the truth for a third time—and this time around, Emily had the ammunition of Daniel and Charlotte on her side. She smirked. All devils must fall, Conrad.

Chapter five, everybody! I hope you guys like it, and are satisfied with the little bit of drama in this chapter. Next update will have even more hopefully, so hang tight. Quick thank you to everyone who is supporting this story and your engagement in it is so humbling. Still happy to hear any ideas you guys may have! Anyone else really pumped for tonight's episode?! ;)

_Reviews are love! _


	6. Lost Boys Don't Cry

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Six_

'_Lost Boys Don't Cry'_

The Giants game was on now, leaving Conrad Grayson's news in the past. The hazy faces around Daniel seemed to take no heed to what had just happened, blindly accepting a guilty man's escape from justice. The manifestation of pure evil had never been known to Daniel until he saw his father's unrelenting power at work. That same power that had saved him so many times from jail or consequence; he had _thanked_ his father then. He felt no better than the conniving Conrad, and was sick to his stomach. But could laundering money for a terrorist organization really be put on the same level as a DUI? _A crime is a crime is a crime._ Like father like son, Daniel supposed bitterly, wondering how Emily could love someone like him. She was a rainbow of every good deed imaginable, and what was he? Gray and black hues, smothered with tainted wrongdoings. Why did he deserve someone who made him feel so bright and colorful? There was nothing noble about a boy pretending to be a man, while never truly growing up. His parents had raised him so comfortably; he was able to live his life under the delusional idea he could have no more adult responsibility than Peter Pan. The money was already made, the experts were in place—all Daniel would have to do is smile and know something about the stock market, while sporting a horrendously expensive suit. It was all too planned, all too easy. He had seen firsthand what money could do to a person, and he was not about to embrace that fate willingly. Conrad Grayson felt himself entitled to all the world had to offer, and Victoria used her haughty menace to get everything the material world held in store—Daniel wanted to be more. He didn't want the people to hate the 1%- he wanted the 1% to help the people, not their own greedy agendas. When had everything noble about the Grayson name come crashing down, leaving all morality in a splattered mess on the floor? The massacre of genuineness had been a systematic and bloody process, digging mass graves for the corpses of once notable kindness. Daniel felt abandoned by all that was good in life, save for Emily and Charlotte. His father could walk freely, building his billions of dollars even higher, while David Clarke was still subjected to the role of the most hated man in America. Money buys everything, and gobbles up all dignified contradiction. For once Daniel found himself on the losing side, against money's power, and everything was pierced with unfairness and discarded redemption. There was no way he could get his fairy dust back now, and fly again. Little Peter Pan had finally faced the music, and left Neverland, with Wendy guiding him through the scary world called reality. Daniel leaned more of his weight on the bar table, tapping the tip of his shoe on the ground.

Charlotte had gone over to the pool table a couple of minutes ago, and neither Daniel nor Emily had spoken yet. Checking her phone, the blonde sighed. Nolan would be at the beach house in twenty minutes or so. She loathed having to leave Daniel in his destructed state, but she had to see what Nolan had found out—in the long run, her fiancée would thank her. Or so she hoped.

"Hey, Daniel," Emily began softly, "something just came up." Her eyes were apologetic and she gave him a sad smile. Reaching down to pick up her purse from the floor, Daniel caught her arm.

"Where do you have to go?" His voice was hollow, and his eyes had no life left in them. Between the colliding earthquakes of Conrad and Victoria, there was hardly any Daniel left to salvage. Emily's chest tightened.

"Um," she stumbled, "Ashley needs my help with something—for one of the charities we work with. I'll be home in an hour or two. Why don't you stay here with Charlotte? You and she should talk." Emily hated what she was doing—all she wanted was to be with Daniel, but revenge was beckoning, and she couldn't resist. Her ring seeming to tighten around her finger, Daniel let go of her arm weakly.

"Alright." He gave her a tiny smile, urging her to go. So tragically supportive, Emily just wanted to hug him. Leaning into him, she kissed him tenderly, and then embraced him gently.

"I promise we can talk about everything during dinner. Your mother, your father… whatever you want; I'm yours for the night." Daniel nodded to her, still not fully satisfied with her leaving. Pulling her tighter into his embrace, he rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment. It seemed like forever since the last time she was truly in his arms like she was right now. Why did all the joy have to run away from him? He let her go.

"See you when you get home," he told her. Kissing him one last time, she made her way to the door, trying to ignore Jack's sapphire stare. The little bell above the door rung when it closed behind her and Daniel slumped into her now vacant seat. The air became unbearably cold around him, and a sort of void encircled his vacant form.

"Want a refill?" Jack gestured towards the empty glass of water. Lifting his dark eyes from the table, Daniel met Jack's blue irises with an explosive clash. The colors rebounded off of each other it seemed, further drawing the line between the two men.

"Yeah, please," Daniel replied, and watched as the ice cubes began to float again as the water was poured. Setting the pitcher down, Jack sighed. The Grayson was obviously unhappy, and Jack's charitable side got the better of him.

"I heard what the SEC said about your dad," he began awkwardly. "Congratulations." Rubbing the back of his neck, Jack tapped his fingers on the table. Daniel gave a sarcastic smirk in response.

"Yeah, thanks," he drawled, "it's _great _when the guilty get off scot-free." Crossing his arms and setting them on the table, his face was stone.

"You think your dad did it?" Jack asked, suddenly intrigued by Daniel's presence. He'd never suspected there to be much depth in the Grayson kid, but as he looked at him now, he couldn't deny the intelligence and nobility he saw. Maybe Jack had judged the guy too quickly, and he suddenly felt guilty. There had to be something redeeming about him for Emily to love him like she did—but that did not change his anger towards Daniel Grayson. He was still engaged to the woman Jack loved, and nothing could change that instinctual hatred. Not even recently discovered decent morals.

"Never mind," Daniel whispered, "thanks for the water." Jack nodded curtly, turning away from him, and went back to the still crowded seats and tables. As he left, Daniel felt a warm presence come next to him, and he turned to find Charlotte sitting in the chair next to him again.

Her innocence was radiating from her pores, and Daniel loathed being the one to have to extinguish its luminous beauty. Whatever childlike nature that had been left in the older Grayson, it had died the second his father had told him the truth about Flight 197. There could be no more checking under the bed for monsters, because he finally realized the monsters weren't there—they were within him and his parents. The thought was terrifyingly condemning.

* * *

So tomorrow and the next few days will be filled with essay after essay for me, so I figured I'd give you guys a quick little chapter since I won't be able to update for a few days. So next chapter will be more loaded with drama, and a lot longer than this one is—so please hang in here with this filler update! Haha. I still hope that you guys liked it! All of your support is wonderful. (:

_Reviews are love! _


	7. Please Teach Me Gently

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Seven_

'_Please Teach Me Gently' _

Daniel's presence beside her made her tremble. Charlotte Grayson did not want to seem lost, especially not to her brother—the perfection of a brilliant husky; eyes as crisp and prepared as could be. Strength, loyalty, initiative… she had tried to be like him for so many years. But after a while of never getting the attention she so craved, that drive slowly died until even the slightest look from her parents was the highlight of her week. Her father at one point, in a now distant fairytale land, had loved her and seemed proud. His blue eyes would dance at her smile, and she would feel whole again—but as her luck would have it, even her father's love was too perfect to last. Her pretty castles crumbled to rubble in a black abyss, and the sky frozen in eternal pinks and oranges was torn through by the brutalizing midnight. The once fantastic kingdom was now just echoes of happy times lost to memory. It all vanished: everything, everyone; never to return; or so Charlotte's seventeen year old heart thought. But here was Daniel; the godlike image of what a Grayson should be, with his full attention dedicated to _her_: the forgotten one. Comforting fire crackled in his eyes, and she couldn't help but give him a tiny smile. He had always had a knack for making her feel like home could be anywhere love was—and usually that lied with him. Resting an elbow on the wooden bar table, Daniel looked about ready to speak.

"Why didn't you tell me, Charlotte?" He asked her weakly. "If I had known mom had said that to you—I would've taken you away a long time ago." Trying his best to laugh, he touched her forearm gently. "You don't have to be alone, you know." His face was so kind—full of good intentions and swirling forgiveness.

"I don't know," she whispered, "I guess I just didn't want to hurt you. I know how close you are with her, and I—I didn't want to be the one to destroy that." Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, letting the voices around her bleed into her pores; she needed a distraction. Daniel's glance brought her back quickly though, and she was locked mesmerizingly onto his eyes. He could compel a room with those eyes of his—that's what would make him a marvelous businessman. He was free from that fate now, though; right? Charlotte rubbed the pad of her index finger on the table.

"You wouldn't have destroyed anything. If anyone would've been to blame, it would've been mom. Besides, you're one of the most important things in my life. Whatever's going on with you, no matter how close to the problem I am or not, you can talk to me about it. That's what brothers are for." He grinned brightly; it had been such a long time since Charlotte had seen that look on his face. It made her feel like hope wasn't completely lost. Though technically banished from their own family, that didn't mean everything was over. In fact, it was the beginnings of a fresh start. Having this conversation at the Stowaway was indicator number one.

"You're the best, Daniel," Charlotte said, "and thank you. I'm here for you too." She paused, then, her mind still on the fact she and he were no longer directly tied to the Grayson name. Her fluttering heart froze for a second. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Daniel returned, crossing his arms lithely over his torso. He was so confident; she prayed her question wouldn't extinguish that.

"Now that we're not with mom and dad, what do we do? Like will you get a job? Will we move? I just don't know what we're supposed to do from here, you know?" She was nervous now. Though it had only been a few days since the interview debacle, the future was swiftly approaching. Daniel's face faltered a tad, but maybe it was just in serious thought…

"It's a scary thing, I know. We've never had to worry about what was going to happen," he conceded, "but it's a liberating thing not to know, isn't it?" He let the happy thought hang in the air a moment before continuing. "But you'll still be going to school, and hopefully Emily and I can keep you at Collins. I know moving would be rough on you—especially now. As for me, I'll start getting some applications. We won't go starving Charlotte, I promise you that." His smile was comforting, and she felt that as long as he stayed positive, they'd have a cushion to fall back on. She'd never realized how much she had to lose until she felt herself free falling faster and faster away from it. It'd be a long and windy road to the bottom.

"I know we won't," Charlotte said. A burdening topic she knew, she quickly thought of something she knew would brighten Daniel's mood. "So if you could do anything, what would it be? You have a whole world of opportunity now." Leaning in closer to him, she was genuinely intrigued by what his answer would be. In all of their years, far-fetched dreams weren't something they usually talked about. Life was planned, and that was it. The biggest dreams they had were what hobbies they might be able to have once their parents got off their backs. Now, nobody's eyes were upon them but each others'.

"You know," Daniel said in thought, "I've never really thought about it. Poetry has always interested me, but I have to think of something practical. There's a difference now between getting a job and getting a job to support a family." He sighed, "As dull as it sounds, I might just go into business. It's what I've been prepped for all my life—it just won't be for Grayson Global." Even without Conrad and Victoria breathing down his neck, they still heavily loomed over Daniel's personality. He tried to shrug them away, but after years of being raised by them, their teachings were etched into his mind permanently. He clenched his fists.

"Business?" Charlotte echoed somewhere between disappointment and shock, "out of everything in the world that's what you pick?" She cocked her head to the side. Daniel was free—why was he staying in his chains?

"Of course it's not my first choice—or my twentieth. But it can't just be about what I want to do anymore; it's about what I _should_ do, and what I can do best in. You and Emily matter so much to me; I want you two to live the lives you want. And if that means me going into the business world, then I'll willingly do it." His protective side was taking precedence, and Charlotte bit her lip. She knew he was right, but he didn't want him to limit himself on account of her.

"Daniel," Charlotte started weakly.

"It's not the worst thing in the world, Char. In fact I'm sure it's really interesting. There's a difference between letting go of dreams and changing them—I'm just changing mine."

"For me," she replied guiltily. Averting her gaze from Daniel, she still felt his caramel stare on her cheek.

"Of course for you, Charlotte; and Emily." He'd be loyal to their needs, even if they weren't. His happiness was dependent on theirs now, he decided, and he'd stick to that until there was no more breath left in him.

"I love that you want to do that, but I don't want you to lose your courage to find what you want." She would not let this go easily. Daniel would not sacrifice everything for her; she wouldn't let him. He was so giving; it was time she gave back to him.

"There are many different kinds of courage; and besides, what I want, is you and Emily. You're happy, I'm happy. It's honestly that simple. I love you both so much, and I'll do anything for you two. So business is perfectly fine with me. I'm confident in it; why break something that's not broken?" His heart was silently breaking: there were so many other things he longed to do with his life, but he was not lying in what he'd said to Charlotte. He firmly believed in his choice, and was willing to stick with it in the name of love.

Charlotte paled, slumping forward a bit. Daniel sighed. "I know it's not really the answer you want, but it is what's best. Back me up on this?" He was almost pleading with her. Charlotte nodded furiously.

"Always, Danny," she promised as she leaned over and hugged him tightly. Finally the sounds around her became silent, and all she heard was the strong sound of Daniel's heartbeat. Everything would be okay now.

* * *

When Emily got back to the beach house, everything was still silent. Her porch swing called to her, and she answered it gladly, sitting on the sacred white surface. The ocean was oddly calm, despite the rain that still came down rather harshly. Droplets landing on the sea's surface, it looked as if the water was waltzing to an ancient tune, known only to the most soulful of nature. It was a culture within itself, and Emily would have given anything to be a part of it. The happiest of times she could remember were associated with water—it was the cleanser of all pains. As she looked onto the ocean's dancing form though, she felt herself an awful intruder. The scenery didn't seem to want her company, and the wind was whipping harsher now. Even with everything going down the right path in Emily Thorne's life, Amanda Clarke was still a wrecked mess, more tattered than the Titanic on the bottom of the Atlantic. She pulled her sweater around herself tighter, and rose from the porch. There was no place for her out here, and she followed her exile to the house.

Pacing back and forth across the chilly wood surface, she finally heard a melodious knock on the door. _Nolan. _Eager as ever to find out his news, she forced herself to walk slowly to his waiting form. She had to present herself as someone who needed no assistance; it was the only thing that kept her from collapsing from the inside out. Turning the knob, Nolan's bright face greeted her—his bright _wet _face. She suppressed a smirk.

"You'd think someone with kung-fu moves would be able to get to the door a little faster," he drawled sarcastically, walking past Emily and into the house. His reddish hair was dripping, and he almost looked like a wet puppy. Closing the door with her back, she folded her arms and looked at him intensely.

"What did you find, Nolan," she snapped quickly, walking towards the living room. Nolan followed in his scheming frat-boy manner. If she had met him before her life fell apart, she would have considered him one of the funniest and most amusing people alive. But as history states, he was so chained to her father's memory there was no way happiness could overtake her in his presence. She turned to face him icily once she got to the fireplace.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Nolan said with a conniving smile. Emily rolled her eyes slightly.

"Enough with the foreplay."

"Your wish is my command, Chairman Mao," he replied, wittily surrendering to her stern form. "Turns out your Berkshire lady has her life pretty red-taped up. _But_, I did get my hands on some of her records. She graduated from Columbia the same year as Conrad, and apparently she knew his brother too."

"Conrad has a brother?" Emily tilted her head to the right, and looked to Nolan intently.

"Creighton Grayson," he replied. "Their parents certainly had a thing for 'C' names…" Emily began to pace again, and Nolan followed her movements.

"How does she know him?" She asked, putting her hand on her hip.

"Creighton? He wrote her a few checks back in the 90s," he said simply.

"I need to know why," Emily told him, her mind absolutely reeling. Laura Berkshire had graduated with Conrad, and knew his brother… she had to have had some relationship with them.

"Like I told you," Nolan said tensely, "her records are pretty tightly sealed."

"Find them, Nolan. Laura Berkshire might be the missing link in all of this." She stopped moving, and looked directly at her friend. "Does it ever make you wonder why the SEC never found anything? _Either_ time?"

"Never really crossed my mind," Nolan admitted, "but I see your point. Danny Boy seemed pretty sure the SEC would nail Conrad… he must be pretty mad about the outcome." He couldn't hide the amusement from his face. He liked Daniel, truly he did, but sometimes it was nice to see relatively perfect kids like that make mistakes. He'd never been one to accept the 1%'s feeling of entitlement.

"Furious," Emily replied. Nolan tapped his fingers on his phone.

"Think he'll try to get some revenge of his own?" Nolan smirked. "As an armature of course." He winked at her momentarily. Emily spun her ring around her finger.

"If he does, I won't stop him." There was no joking in Emily's tone. Nolan inched closer to her.

"Really," he said dryly, "you don't think he'll mess something up?" He was testing her: her love for Daniel, her willingness to avenge her father whatever the costs… he was testing everything. Since growing closer to the Grayson, she'd seemed to change. It slightly unnerved Nolan.

"Sabotage is sabotage, Nolan," she replied steadily, "as long as he's on our side, the only harm he'll do is to his parents." Though her own confidence in that staying true was on slightly wobbly ground, she surprised herself at how strongly she had posed her argument to Nolan. Daniel would make a forgiving person out of her yet.

"Whatever you say…" Nolan said holding up his hand in surrender. Beginning to walk towards the door, Emily followed quickly.

"Get me that missing information on Laura Berkshire," she instructed coldly. Nolan nodded grudgingly, but too intrigued by it all to say no. He had a soft spot in his heart for Amanda Clarke.

"On it Ems," he called from the porch, and continued down the steps and out of sight. Emily leaned on the doorframe, needing to catch her breath. Whatever relation Laura had with Conrad and Creighton, it would certainly be the missing piece in her father's trial. Fiddling with her engagement ring, it reminded her Daniel and Charlotte would most likely be home soon. She held her breath. Even within her double life, she was living a double life. Revenge was tearing at her limb from limb, and she wondered if she'd even know who she truly was after all of it was over. _Loyalty is everything, Amanda_.

* * *

So I finished my essay a lot quicker than I had expected so yay! I will be revealing more of Laura Berkshire's role as the story progresses; this was just the introduction. Hope you all enjoyed it! Your ideas are always appreciated, and I thank you all once more for your wonderful support. (:

_Reviews are love!_


	8. Her Majesty the Damned

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Eight_

'_Her Majesty the Damned' _

_Mirror, Mirror, on the wall: who's the fairest of them all? _If her reflection could talk, Victoria knew the answer would surely not be her. Though she may be queen, she was most certainly not fair—she hadn't been in quite some time. History and years were playing the destructive game of life with her, and there was no way she could win; as much as she prayed, the past could never be erased. There was no do over for people like Victoria Grayson: miracles weren't granted to sinners. She could change her clothes, her life, repent, and plead, but it would never change anything. She had bitten from her own poison apple when she chose to stand beside Conrad in the David Clarke trial, and it was something she regretted every day. If only David could see her now: a broken woman, with the only brightness in her being the earrings he'd gotten her all those years ago. Had she really fallen from such grace as to live her life through tiny tangible memories? Her wrinkles were becoming more apparent these days, and her limbs were growing tired—the beauty of youth and innocence was vanishing swiftly. For sure it was the most merciful punishment for someone who had wronged as terribly as she had, but that did not stop Victoria from looking in the mirror loathsomely. It had been years since she'd looked at herself and genuinely believed she was fairest of them all. With Emily Thorne now in the picture, the entire mirror which had once loved her, shattered. Even her precious Daniel had abandoned her for the blonde haired princess, and the bleak rage bubbled in her chest. What would it take for Victoria to be fair again? Past the point of redemption, the limitations of morals seemed tragically vanquished. Conrad had taught her that life was a battlefield—and if you were not the attacker, then you were the victim. Victoria would _never _fall to another; she had built her person on the promise that only she could influence herself. But the longer she stayed put in Southampton, the greater the mob became threatening to storm her castle. Her power was rooted in the ancient tactics of monarchy, but she could feel Emily Thorne rattling her Bastille. Weaponry appearing outdated and overused, Victoria wondered how she'd last the year. Everything had died around her in some way or another, and she waited in angst for her time to come. Monarchs cannot last forever, especially when a youth is primed and ready to take the throne. But unwilling to relinquish her crown, Victoria's distain for her son's fiancée only escalated. She could not understand Daniel's love for the girl—from the moment she met her, she had sensed something off about her. There could not be that much perfection and innocence in one woman: underneath the layers of façade, there had to be some darker drive. Even Snow White had had blackness within her; it's inescapable. Victoria wrung her hands together, finally peeling her eyes from the mirror. Her wedding ring dragged across the palm of her hand, like an insidious snake swerving its way on the ground. The floors below her were too shallow to be home. As much as this mansion was her stronghold, Victoria couldn't deny that the one place she truly felt accepted was the Clarkes' beach house. Even now, after all of the bad blood, it was still more of a home than Conrad's money could ever be. She was puzzled by it all; when had she lost every ounce of love for Conrad? There had been a time when his eyes were all she could look at—then they had faded to gray. And so was life, one dream dying, replaced by another, only to have the cycle repeat itself—would it ever stop?

Her heels clicked on the ground like a ticking bomb, and her crimson dress seemed to sink into her skin. The house was eerily quiet, save for the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof. Memories of her conversation with Daniel still whirling in her head, she roamed around the house like a distant stranger. Power was stripped when she was alone, and she felt feebler than a mouse in a trap. Echoes were her enemies when she was isolated from the world—they reminded her that the past was always nipping at her heels, threatening to pounce. Staring up at the staircase by the front door, she heard a knock. Stomach tensing, she walked to it slowly; she had no idea what compelled her to feel so nervous.

"Daniel, Charlotte," Victoria said in shocked breathlessness. The faces of her children bore into her like a curse, and she felt her body beginning to sway. She promised herself she would not let them leave this time.

"Charlotte came to get her things," Daniel replied to her numbly, and Charlotte stared at her mother a moment before brushing past her and up the large staircase. Victoria couldn't react fast enough, and her daughter was out of her reach. Daniel lingered in the doorway though, his hair growing darker with the light rain.

"Would you like to come in?" Victoria felt terribly odd asking the question. This was her son's home—he was always welcome, even if he was at odds with her: the love of a mother never parishes. She tilted her head to the side, attempting to keep her composure.

Daniel stiffened slightly. "Charlotte told me what you said in the leaked Banks tapes," he told her dryly, his eyes black as the deep ocean at midnight. They seemed to be crashing wave after wave upon her strength, and she stood straighter to keep her balance.

"You must know I didn't mean what I said, Daniel," Victoria told him. It was true she loved her daughter with all of her heart—she never wanted to hurt her. But as per usual, her icy exterior overtook her mild heart, and the innocent got hurt. Charlotte, Daniel, David… happiness seemed to follow her only so it could be brutally ripped away. She bit her cheek in bitterness.

"I'm sure you didn't mom, but the fact is you said it. The damage has been done." The rain was having no affect on him now, and he barely felt the droplets on his arms. His mother looked so alone, and her eyes were pleading for love. Daniel tensed.

"I never wanted to push you or Charlotte away," Victoria said. "Won't you two come home?" Her ice had been completely melted away, and Daniel could sense it. He allowed a little smile to break out on his face. But only for a moment and then it was gone—like a flash of lighting.

"I'll always love you mom," Daniel admitted, "I just can't be with you right now. Healthy distance—that's all me and Charlotte need." He took a step back from the door, once he realized he'd been inching closer. Victoria felt the miles adding on as he drifted away. Reconciliation was on the horizon, it seemed. But the setting sun was just her light bulb going out; she prayed Daniel and Charlotte would come around before she completely washed away. Her heart crystallized as Daniel kept his distance, and she felt herself reaching out to grasp his hand. He didn't pull it away, much to her pleasant surprise.

"Daniel," she whispered frantically, but had nowhere to take the sentence. She dropped his comforting grasp. Victoria could hear Charlotte rummaging upstairs. She'd never thought she'd see the day her seventeen year old daughter was practically fleeing the house to live anywhere but with her. Had she really been that terrible of a mother? Being protective was not a crime by any means. Daniel looked to her empathetically, and he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. As much as it was lulling to see his mother's face, he wished Charlotte would hurry up her packing. Slipping his left hand into his pocket, he rubbed his thumb over the screen of the phone. His sister came down the stairs quickly then, holding up two large duffel bags full of stuff. Victoria moved out of the way numbly, and Charlotte crossed over the threshold. She continued walking away, but Daniel stayed put for a moment.

"I love you," he said weakly before turning away and running after Charlotte in the rain. It had calmed a bit, so it was bearable to be out in. Victoria was left frozen by the door, unable to think or breathe. Daniel's words lingered in her ears, and she felt them forming on the tip of her tongue. But before she could speak them, he and Charlotte were out of sight. How had she let them go again?

* * *

When a safe distance from Grayson Manor, Daniel pulled out his phone. His body still ached from seeing his mother's damaged face, but he was reluctant to give in. He had to become his own person before he could soothe another.

_How are you doing? You hanging in there? _Emily's sweet words lit up his screen, and he smiled. He longed for her sweet touch, as calming as a honey Georgia breeze.

_Missing you. Charlotte and I will be home soon. _Daniel watched as the message sent, and picked up his pace towards the beach house. The Manor behind him seemed trampled, and home was the quaint little cottage next to the Dark Kingdom.

* * *

Sorry for the lack of action and for how short it is. Next chapter will be more information on Laura and also some Daniel and Emily moments. I've realized that even though I love them so much, I fail to write them much in this story. So sorry about that! I'm about to change that, haha. I wanted to take this chapter to kind of explore Victoria's character, so I hope you all like it! Your ideas are always welcome.

_Reviews are love!_


	9. Grace Tangled in Rapture with Revenge

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Nine_

'_Grace Tangled in Rapture with Revenge'_

Emily jumped when she heard the door being opened. Even after months of having Daniel walk in and out of the house, she still wasn't used to the company. There was something off-center about having people around her—Amanda Clarke hadn't been social in years. The cruel truths of reality had killed any social butterfly fluttering within her, but Daniel Grayson was teaching Emily Thorne how to breathe again. It still surprised her how influential her fiancée could be: seeming so loyal to deference, he changed her more than anyone had in quite some time. He reminded her that there always had to be lightness to balance the dark, and that with love and dedication, happiness wasn't out of reach. In a way, Daniel was that second infinity looped on top of the other one—her father the first, her fiancée the second… the two protective bookends to her tender heart. She ran her thumb over her tattoo, and finally got up from the couch to greet Daniel and Charlotte. The chilliness that had plagued the air was gone now, and Emily loosened her sweater around her torso. Glancing to the window, the sun was beginning to go down, and she suddenly found herself soothed. Before, the nighttime always held pain, and the morning, if she was lucky, was her relief. But now that trend was blown away in ashes, and there was always that sensation of contentedness. She could understand now why her father had risked so much to be with Victoria: love was addictive, in the most terrifyingly pleasant way.

The seventeen year old was barely noticeable, hidden behind massive bags which Emily guessed to be filled with clothes, and Daniel took the one hanging from Charlotte's left hand and slipped it onto his shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief as the weight was lifted, and gave a weak little wave as Emily approached. Moving the duffel's strap closer to his collarbone, Daniel smiled tenderly at her, and she held back a blush.

"I see you made a trip to the Manor," she said tentatively. By their expressions she couldn't tell if the visit had gone well or not. Daniel, and Charlotte for that matter, were a lot more talented at hiding their emotions than Emily had originally thought.

"Yeah, we did," Daniel said rather vacantly, and turned to face Charlotte. Her light brown eyes were a little hollow, and she bit her cheek.

"I know it's really early," she began, "but is it okay if I go up to bed? I'm pretty tired." Daniel looked to his sister sadly, but she didn't meet his gaze. "I can take that one up too," she told him softly, and he reluctantly slipped the bag from his shoulder and handed it back to her. He knew now was no time to argue with what she said. Though Charlotte hadn't said a word to her mother, the darkening feeling of being in that house was enough to switch her mood.

"Sleep well, Charlotte," Emily told her tenderly as she passed, and Charlotte nodded in return. Daniel, for some reason, couldn't find his voice to speak, and his sister was out of sight before he could make his muscles work again. He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. The sound of Charlotte closing her bedroom door echoed throughout the house.

"I take it didn't go well?" Emily asked feebly as she walked back into the living room, Daniel following close behind.

"You could say that," Daniel replied. "Charlotte didn't say one word to Victoria; the tension was undeniable. I just wish I could figure out a way to help her—she's not dealing with all of this very well." He slumped onto the couch, and Emily sat gently next to him, placing her hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry, about all of it," she said quietly, "but I don't know if there's anything you can do. Charlotte is dealing with everything in her own way, and that's all there is to it. I love that you want to help her, but for right now, just give her space. Things are complicated for her right now; she just needs to know you're there for her if she needs you." Emily gave him an empathetic smile. It wasn't too long ago she was the lost teen no one seemed able to help. Daniel looked at her weakly, his features enclosed in confusion. He didn't have the slightest idea of how to comfort Charlotte, and he felt utterly helpless.

"You're right," he told her, and patted her hand softly.

"How are _you _handling all of this?" She searched his face for any answers. "I'm sorry I had to leave earlier, by the way. I know things are crazy for you right now, and I shouldn't have left." Guiltiness was building up inside her. She knew what it was like to be abandoned when in need, and she didn't wish for anyone to go through the loneliness she did—especially not Daniel.

"You had to do what you had to do," he said shrugging his shoulders."And to be honest, I don't really know. I'm angry at my parents for what they did, and I'm having a hard time forgiving them. My mother's face today was so lost and broken—I don't think I've ever seen her like that. I know she wants to fix things, I just don't know if I'm ready for that." Daniel bit his lip. Emily's heart went out to him, and there seemed to be some sort of wall between them. When she'd started her vengeful crusade, it never crossed her mind how it would hurt others; especially not ones she loved. She didn't quite regret what she'd done, she just wished there was a way she could do it without hurting him.

"You don't have to be," she told him. "Maybe some distance from your parents right now is best…"

"I want to find a way to get the truth out there about Flight 197," he said, in his own little world now. Emily's muscled tensed; Daniel plotting a form of revenge wasn't something she'd seen before. It was relieving to know he hadn't decided to join Conrad and Victoria's side, but her anxiety still wouldn't fade.

"How would you go about doing that? Didn't the SEC say they didn't find anything?" It was weird for her, listening to someone else talk about their schemes—oddly enough though, it took some of the pressure off of her. For the first time, her two worlds were fusing together.

"As much as I hate to say it, I'd work for my dad. I know there has to be some sort of evidence at Grayson Global—my father isn't one to discard things." Emily paled. Though it was for the cause of bringing Conrad to justice, the mere thought of Daniel working for his father unnerved her. She was terrified he might abandon her in terms of clearing David Clarke's name, and she wasn't sure how she'd take it. Emily had gotten much too involved to turn away now.

"Even evidence that would tie him to the crime of the century?" Simply referring to the trial in that matter disgusted her, but with Daniel around, she wasn't Amanda—she was Emily. She had to keep her worlds straight.

"It's worth a shot. There's a much better chance at finding something if I'm inside, than if I stay an outsider." Daniel's confidence was rising as he spoke. As much as he dreaded working for his father, at least he'd let justice have its shot at Conrad, and give Emily and Charlotte the security they deserved.

"You really think your father would accept you back in? After what you said in the interview I'd be surprised." She couldn't keep her skepticism to herself. Before she completely let go of the reigns, she wanted to make sure Daniel had a solid plan that at least had the chance of working.

"Now that the SEC's off his back, all he needs is the 'family-run company' image back. If the world sees that I'm working with my father, then it only works to his benefit. He'll have no choice but to let me in." Emily couldn't deny that his logic was sound. Conrad was too proud of a man to pass up an offer that would put him on top of the world again. Daniel seemed to know how to control his father, even if he himself didn't know he had the talent—Emily couldn't help but smile.

"I think you should do it," she decided. "But are you sure you're ready to turn your father in?" It was a genuine question, and she saw Daniel freeze for a moment.

"Not fully, but I'm tired of him getting away with everything. I want the Grayson name to be associated with honesty, not cheating."

"I'm so proud of you," Emily beamed, and leaned in to kiss Daniel. He accepted her touch happily, and pulled her closer to him. The pleasant passion was electrifying the air, and revenge bonded Daniel and Emily even closer together. The only question now was when the opportune moment to strike was…

* * *

So some build up to action; yay! Next chapter will be a lot more exciting and longer; I promise. Haha. But I wanted a chapter to devote to Daniel and Emily, so I hope you all liked it! As I always say, your suggestions are welcome. (:

_Reviews are love!_


	10. My Tender Heart is Just for You

_I'll Love You Better Now _

_Ten_

'_My Tender Heart is Just for You' _

The gray skies from yesterday's storm still hung over the winter-stricken Hamptons and Grayson Manor was even chillier than the whipping air. Victoria was gone for the day, and Charlotte and Daniel had abandoned the home and its memory almost entirely. That left only Conrad in the Manor, and his lonesome and icy heart seemed to dictate the temperature of his home. In all his years he'd never dreamt he'd be isolated quite like this: he was truly, utterly, and in every sense of the word, alone. There was no one but him and his memories; and the ghosts of haunting times past do not make for very warm companions. No forgiveness was left in the world for Conrad Grayson, and he knew the fact very well. The fear of falling to Hell no longer plagued his mind, and he'd come to accept his ultimate damnation—more out of understanding obedience than true acceptance. There was no constriction though, that forbade a devil from throwing a party, and that was just what Conrad was going to do. The SEC finally off his case, and the drama of his son's trial finally dying down, there was perfect excuse for a party; just in time for Valentine's Day, too. He supposed a deeply dormant part of him hoped the loving season would bring his wife and children back to him, but he'd learned long ago not to expect miracles. All the luck that happened in life came from cleverly decided actions, and having the right friends—there was no randomness to the matter. Conrad clung to the solidities of life because he could wrap his hands around them and have an effect. With the uncertainties, there was no way of controlling them; they had an agenda of their own, and that terrified him. As strong as he could make himself, he could never compensate for the great power of the unknown—it had attacked him out of the blue time and again. His father, Victoria, his children, his brother… they all had sprung bits and pieces of the unknown on him, and he hadn't quite recovered from any of them. Conrad Grayson was in eternal recovery; his bones were just as fragile as the great Latin architecture in Rome.

His office seemed to entrap him in expensive wooden walls, and the windows gave him a tragic vantage point to the world: the marvelous Hamptons were overcome by winter, no more free than Conrad and his guilty conscience. Tapping his left hand on his desk and spinning his pen in his right, he felt his entire life's work give out beneath him, condemning him to an abusively stagnant fall. His armor of money was no longer protecting him from the blows entirely, and his internal hope was crushing dramatically. He would give anything to go back and change what he'd done, but time was not that kind to him and his lost cause. Remorse seventeen years later did not even begin to make up for the lost years of repentance, and now he was paying the price.

There was a quick knock on his door, and he perked up at the sound. His heart beat faster in hopes that it was Victoria, Daniel, or Charlotte. "Come in," he replied as neutrally as possible, beginning to write something to make himself appear more productive. Conrad looked up and was met with the face of Laura Berkshire. "Laura," he greeted in honest shock. She gave him a weak half smile before sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"Conrad," she greeted in return, obviously in some sort of anxiety. She tucked her reddish hair behind her ear, and looked to Conrad with pensive green eyes. "I know you must wonder why I'm here."

"That would be a valid observation," he returned, leaning in closer to his desk. He hadn't seen Laura's face to face in years; she was just as beautiful as he remembered. That magic about her still lingered in her light freckles, and Conrad's bitterness towards his brother reignited. Why hadn't she chosen him all those years ago? Creighton had never treated her like the true queen she was—Conrad had vowed to do just that. Except instead of Laura, Victoria had become his counterpart; a reality he both relished in and regretted.

"People are asking questions about your case," she informed him nervously. Her alto voice rung melodiously in his ears—it sounded so much richer than it did over the phone. "I don't know how long I can keep back the SEC's curiosity."

"Why would they be curious," Conrad returned tensely, "didn't you take them off the trail?" He now tapped his pen nervously on the mahogany desk, its shining silver catching the glimmer in Laura's eyes.

"I did, but you and I both know the records are still out there. Why don't you just destroy the evidence? I don't see the point in keeping it." She ran her fingers down strands of shoulder-length hair, the little highlights of gold shining proudly. Conrad was mesmerized by her, even after all this time, and had to fight his desires. As moot as it may be, he was determined to win Victoria back—he honestly did love her.

"I have my reasons," Conrad replied cryptically, his blue eyes staring her down somewhere between lust and strength. She still had the great power of influence over him, and in her case, Conrad was willing to give in freely. With Laura Berkshire, all laws of reality seemed suspended. "Keep your loyalty though, Laura; you know what's at stake if you don't."

"How could I forget," she said almost bitterly. History pounded so many burdening truths upon her that she wondered how she got up every morning. What she had been a part of and who she had been in relations with was unforgiveable. "I won't do anything to try and harm your safety, Conrad. I promise; as I always have." A smile formed on her face, carrying with it all the darkness of their past.

"How's Joseph doing," Conrad asked, deciding to change the subject to something hopefully lighter. He hated to see Laura in pain. "I hear he's planning on Yale for next fall?"

"He's just fine," she returned pleasantly, "but he misses his Uncle Conrad. With Creighton not here, he doesn't really have any father figure, and I know that's been hard on him. But yes, Yale is the plan, so long as my salary stays where it is."

"You know I am always more than willing to help, Laura. All you have to do is ask." He watched longingly, hoping to see the youthful spark return to her eyes. It was tragic, the pain he and Creighton had caused her over the years. But still she was relentless, unwilling to give up despite all her good reason to.

"You've already done some much, Conrad, with paying for Joseph's school tuition and all. I couldn't ask any more from you; you're already too generous to us." She looked away shyly, her pride and determination kicking in. It was one of the many things Conrad loved about her, and he watched as her long eyelashes went up and down as she blinked. She was a goddess, if there was ever to be one in human form.

"On the contrary," he replied, "I don't feel I'm generous enough. My family has put you in such difficult positions; it's the least I could do to help. Besides, you and Joseph are family."

"We haven't truly been your family since the plane went down, Conrad. I wish that wasn't the case, but as it stands, it's sadly true." The hurt in her grassy green eyes was more genuine than any Conrad had seen in someone in some time. He missed her being near him so terribly, and he hoped Laura felt the same way—by the look in her eye, it was a pretty safe bet to make.

"It doesn't have to be, you know." Conrad paused, thinking. "On the 14th I'm hosting a Valentine's Day party here; why don't you come? Joseph is welcome too." He gave her a supportive smile.

"Conrad Grayson throwing a party," she mused amusedly, "I never could have imagined the day. Won't Victoria be angry you've invaded her territory?" Laura gave him a joking smirk.

"As of right now, that's the last thing on her list of reasons why she's angry with me." He sighed. "Everything truly went to hell after the bombing, didn't it?" He clenched his pen tightly in his hand, the events of the fateful night replaying over and over again in his head.

"As expected," Laura agreed. Tapping her hands anxiously, she rose from her seat. "Thank you for your invitation, and I'll be sure to consider it. But Conrad, please don't make it another year before you contact me; and next time, maybe there won't be some great emergency that brings us together." She smiled at him, softly patting his hand before turning around and walking out of the office. There was lingering warmth in the room, and Conrad breathed in heavily. His heartbeat still faster than normal, he looked down to his ring that would soon be pulled from his finger. Bitter anger rose within him—his life was falling apart at the seams. _Why, Creighton, why._

* * *

I figured Conrad needed a chapter of his own, so here it is, haha. I'm planning for the party to be in the next chapter, but as schoolwork stands, I don't know if that's possible. (Hence why it's not in this chapter). Please bear with me lovely readers; I promise once school dies down chapters will be longer and all that wonderful jazz. ;) I hope you all enjoyed it though, and as always, I'd love to get some suggestions from you guys!

_Reviews are love!_


	11. War between the Vanities

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Eleven _

'_War between the Vanities' _

For the first time in all the months Daniel had known Emily, he was up before her. The sun was barely creeping over the horizon, and the ocean was still locked in its nighttime turmoil. As he sat on her beloved white swing, he couldn't help but feel bitter at remembering who had hung it for her—Jack. Wringing his hands together, Daniel tried not to think about it; all that mattered was that Emily loved the swing, and he loved her—that would somehow make it all okay. Breathing in the salty crisp air, he tapped his little notebook on his knee. It had been a long time since he'd taken the time to write a poem—as of late, it seemed more and more difficult to do. But Emily, like a little hopeful glimmer on the water, had sparked all his poetic emotions. Suddenly, the entire world was painted in brighter colors, and even the hardest of trials seemed bearable—this was true love, in all the definitions he'd ever heard. The poets, who once seemed sappy and drowning in honey-blinded infatuation, were now the only voices who made clear and perfect sense to him. His parents had never been a fantastic indicator of love, and his past relationships were no better gauge; Emily had brought it all together in the astounding fiery cascade of her smile. Daniel smirked at the vision of her brilliant grin, and finally flipped the cover of his notebook open. Little bits and pieces of unfinished poems filled the first few pages, and he remembered how difficult it had been for him to write even that tragically little amount. Once turning to a fresh page though, he could already envision the words on the page. Favorite black pen nestled between his left index and middle fingers, the words seemed to come directly from the inspiration of the ink. Valentine's Day only a day away, love-stricken cursive replaced his natural script; it was utterly amazing how easy it came to him—Emily instigated him in such unfathomable ways.

Reality had completely drifted away from him by the time Emily took a gentle seat next to him. Feeling the swing sway slightly, he glanced up quickly at the movement, barely noticing his fiancée next to him.

"I didn't expect to find you out here," Emily said, looking almost longingly to the ocean. "You're up a lot earlier than usual."

Daniel finally put his pen down, smiling at her brightly. If only she could know the overwhelming feeling that sparked within him when he saw her. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep I guess," he replied, trying himself to pinpoint what exactly had awoken him at such an ungodly hour.

"Is something the matter?" She quickly moved her hand to Daniel's forearm. He shook his head with a laugh.

"No, not at all. I'm actually glad I got up; it gave me time to write this." He traced his hand over the notebook paper. Emily cocked her head to get a better view of it.

"What is it?" A little smile escaped onto her lips, and Daniel mirrored her features.

"An early Valentine's Day gift," he told her simply, handing over the notebook to her. As her fingers wrapped around the back and front covers, she couldn't help but freeze momentarily. Poetry had been a hobby of her father's too, and he was the only one, up until now, to write something for her. Emily wasn't used to such love. But not letting her worries get the better of her, she let her eyes fall to the paper in front of her. Daniel's black cursive loops seemed to levitate above the page.

_Last night I dreamt of moonbeams_

_ Parading in the sky, _

_Like so many tiny soldiers _

_ From a castle vaulted high. _

_And they danced with elfin beauty _

_ As they swept across my eyes. _

_Then too I dreamt of bluebirds_

_ And flowers in the spring, _

_Of honey-suckle roses_

_ And all those sorts of things. _

_And every kind of beauty _

_ That happiness can bring. _

_And one by one they assembled _

_ These things both fine and rare, _

_And everything that's gorgeous_

_ From sea or land or air. _

_They gleamed in dazzling glory_

_ And thrilled beyond compare. _

_Then in a tone so soothing, _

_ They said, "This much we'll tell,_

_It isn't our own beauty _

_ That makes us seem so swell;_

_It's only reflected loveliness _

_ From the girl you love so well."_

Emily was breathless. It was very rare that somebody could leave Amanda Clarke at a loss for words or response, but Daniel had accomplished the impossible. Such simplicity and love came from his words, and she truly wondered what she'd done to deserve him. Someone this genuine should not be subjected to a vengeful plan of utter destruction, but Emily couldn't let him go; not now, not ever. She had never truly realized how wonderful he was until she had opened her heart completely to him—and after today, there was no chance in her mind of him betraying her. For so long she'd expected the worst from people, that she forgot to look at the good and sweet parts of them; it compelled her to take for granted the little bits and pieces of love she got. Her fragile nine year old heart fluttered heatedly for Daniel, and she finally saw with clear view how similar he was to her father. It had been a theory lurking in the back of her mind for a while now, but this blush-inducing poem sealed the deal. Blinking back the formation of tears, she looked to Daniel tenderly.

"Daniel, I—I have no idea what to say." She looked back down to the poem again and then back up at him. "It's… perfect." Biting her lip, she watched as Daniel's eyes sparked.

"You really think so? I still don't think I should quit my day job," he told her jokingly. As much as her words meant to him, he had never been one to accept a compliment without feeling slightly uncomfortable. An interesting quirk of his, given whom his parents were, he almost prided himself in it. In a family surrounded by narcissistic endeavors, his shyness was his one weapon against the 'family way'.

"I'm serious, it really is lovely. I'll treasure it forever." Words had never felt this powerful to her since her father said _'You be good; I love you'_ when he was taken from her for the final time. Leaning her head on Daniel's shoulder, his warm body gave her comfort. No matter who his parents may be, he was a true angel. He kissed her on the head in response, and pulled her in closer to him. The notebook was settled between them, one cover on Emily's thigh, the other on Daniel's.

Just as Daniel was beginning to fall completely into a trance, the mailman walked briskly onto their porch, setting their mail on the little table to the left of the stairs with a smile. He smiled in return, and Emily turned her head slightly.

"I'll go get it," he told her softly, before getting up and walking the short distance to the table. Flipping through the mail, he landed on an invitation with a red bow attached elegantly to the top.

_Conrad & Victoria Grayson_

_request the pleasure of your company at the Don't Give Up on Love Valentine's Day gathering,_

_February 14__th__, beginning at 5:00 PM. _

"Leave it to my parents to arrange a party right after a string of such bad events," Daniel said glumly as he sat back down next to Emily and handed her the letter.

"They waste no time, do they," Emily said looking over the letter. It didn't fit Victoria's M.O. to send an invitation out only the day before the gathering, so she figured all of this was Conrad's doing.

"No, they don't. But it would be a good place to get back in to Grayson Global," Daniel told her. His face was sadly grim, taking no pleasure from rejoining his father. He was determined though, to change the connotations with the Grayson name.

"And you're sure that's what you want? You've worked so hard at breaking away from your parents…" Emily ran her fingers through her hair. She was silently pleading he'd reconsider. Not because she didn't wish him success with the company, but rather because she feared he might begin to sympathize with his father. That would be the end of everything.

"I know I have, but Grayson Global isn't technically my parents. They've put it in a terrible condition, but once they face the consequences, it'll be free for rebuilding. I want things to be put right; and that means taking my parents down… not the company." He was stern in his stance, and Emily wasn't about to dissuade him. Giving him a supportive smile, she pulled the notebook closer to her.

"I'm right here beside you through it all," Emily said confidently. She only hoped he'd stay beside her as well.

* * *

When Ashley had handed her the invitation to tomorrow's gathering, Victoria Grayson was about ready to shriek. With Daniel's trial only beginning to die down, marital troubles still passionate, and both children out of the house, and not to mention the horrific social state this late invitation would put her in, she could not fathom why Conrad would have conjured such an outrageous event. Her rages fueling her energy, she walked with fiery urgency to Conrad's office. Flinging the door open with as much grace as possible, she walked in level-headedly. Running her fingers over the invitation in her hands, she addressed her soon to be ex-husband.

"I hear there is going to be a party tomorrow," Victoria said bitterly, and Conrad looked up from his paperwork with a shadow of a smirk. Putting the pen down, he stared at her flatly. "It's a shame I only found out _today_." Her passive aggressiveness had always turned Conrad rather sour, but it was also one of the many things which had made him fall in love with her in the first place. She was truly pulling him apart piece by piece.

"Spontaneity seems to be all the rave these days," he told her haughtily, leaning back in his leather chair. It had always been a silent pet-peeve of Victoria's when he let his posture falter in a business-like setting. She straightened her back even more to compensate for it, and looked to him darkly.

"That is absurd, Conrad. You and I both know very well we are in no state to host a party," she told him sternly, walking closer to his desk. Her violet dress hugging her curves, Conrad was momentarily distracted from her words.

"We have to be a united front right now, Victoria," Conrad replied matter-of-factly, matching her icy gaze. His ring seemed to coil around his finger with venomous strength. "For all of this SEC business, Daniel's trial—all of it; to make it go away, we have to give them absolutely no reason to suspect turmoil. If all seems fine, and we can still host a party harmoniously, everything will blow over."

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's time for us to face the consequences of our actions?" Victoria asked harshly. She was so tired of living a life hanging by lies, while in the process, disrespecting the memory of a man she loved dearly and with all of her heart. She hadn't just loved him; she'd adored him.

"That's not possible. Do you really want that legacy for our children? Do you want them, years from now, to be turned away from a bright future because of _our _mistakes?" He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, his blue eyes shining. He had caught her there; the one thing keeping her from telling the entire truth to all of the world was Daniel and Charlotte. She sighed.

"If you hadn't had put us in this situation to begin with, we'd have nothing to talk about here." Victoria crossed her arms, longing to go back, and fix everything that had been done wrong. It was difficult to do though, when the present held her in her place with such force.

"That demon's already gone and buried. We can't change what we've done. We can only protect our children from its consequences. So, I'll see you at the party tomorrow at five, then." Before she'd even responded, he had resumed his work, never looking up to her.

"Unbelievable," she murmured as she walked with swift grace out of the room, shutting the door behind her firmly.

* * *

When Daniel and Emily reached Grayson Manor the following day, Charlotte deciding to stay home to finish homework, the tension in his stomach was unbelievable. For being his childhood summer home, the Manor looked absolutely foreign and almost evil, for that matter. Emily could sense his hesitation, and laced their fingers together.

"You'll be fine," she reassured him, and they walked confidently into the house. People were already mingling around the room, most of the white floor covered by expensive dress shoes. Scanning the room, Daniel quickly met Conrad's eye. He breathed in sharply, and Emily rubbed his hand to calm him.

"Daniel," Conrad greeted, "and Emily, what a surprise. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming." Some of the ice Daniel could recall from their conversation after the interview still lingered, but most of it had melted by now.

"I actually came to apologize," Daniel replied. He had come this far; he had no choice but to dive off the edge. His father's face brightened, and Daniel couldn't help but feel elated that he could conjure such a reaction from Conrad still. "I was wrong to betray my loyalty to you, and for that I'm sorry. I was hoping we could mend our ways; and I'd like to start by working for you and Grayson Global again." For as hard as it was to speak those words, it was oddly liberating. It gave him the chance to be free and make the decision for himself. Because in all honesty, he had no qualm working for the company. He gave his father a smile. Emily's hand got slightly heavy, hearing those words come from Daniel's mouth. He was still hers though; no matter what. He had to be.

"Of course, Daniel," Conrad responded fluidly, "the company will be lucky to have you. And more importantly, I'm glad to have my son back." Not minding any social restrictions, he embraced Daniel. Letting go of Emily's hand, he returned the hug. She felt suddenly cold now, and waited anxiously for them to part.

"I'm glad to be back too," Daniel told him, once his father had let him go.

"You and Emily enjoy the party; we can talk more about this later," Conrad replied in an oddly happy tone Emily had heard maybe once in all the time she'd known him. With that the elder Grayson was gone, leaving Daniel and Emily alone.

"So how do you feel?" She asked him rather timidly, looking up into his deep brown eyes. They seemed calmly content.

"Okay," he replied rather surprised. "A little weird, I guess. I just need to walk it off." Offering his arm to her, Emily gladly took it, and followed his lead as he led her up the stairs.

She hadn't spent much time on the other floors of Grayson Manor, and she was surprised by how many family photos hung around the upper levels of the house. Most consisting of Conrad, Victoria, Daniel and Charlotte, one picture on the wall across from her caught her attention. Guiding Daniel over to it, she unlocked her arm from his and gestured towards the picture. "Who are they?" She asked.

Daniel followed her gaze, and spotted the two people in the family photo unknown to her. A man with pale blue eyes and deep brown hair was next to a woman with thick golden locks and striking hazel eyes. "That's my Uncle Creighton," Daniel told Emily kind of numbly, "and his fiancée Olivia Marques. Well, I guess ex-fiancée now." He shrugged his shoulders.

"What happened?" The name 'Creighton' sparked massive interest within Emily. How was he connected to Laura, and what role did Olivia play? If only Nolan was faster with his research… she had no idea what was taking him so long. She tried to hide her agitation.

"I don't know too much, but after Flight 197, Uncle Creighton was just gone, and took Olivia with him I suppose." Daniel stared at the picture. It had been years since he'd even remotely thought about his uncle—which, when he thought about it, was quite tragic. In the time Daniel had known him, they had been best friends; he'd always clicked more with Creighton than Conrad. The man's blue eyes were completely foreign now, and Daniel couldn't even remember what his voice sounded like.

"What do you mean, you suppose?" Emily couldn't help but ask. She figured Daniel could give her more immediate answers, and it would certainly beat waiting for Nolan to find them out.

"Well we never got an invitation to their wedding, so I don't know what happened to them."

"I just don't understand why your uncle would just take off. Wouldn't that raise some questions, seeing as he probably had major stock in Grayson Global?" It was weird, talking to Daniel about his family's past. It left an odd feeling on the tip of Emily's tongue. But she couldn't stop asking the questions, and he didn't seem to mind them.

"It's weird, I agree. But I don't know the answer to it. I only know what my parents told me when I was a kid." With Emily asking so many questions, it started to get Daniel's mind churning as well; he wanted to know what had become of his beloved uncle, and he wanted the full truth. He did not, by any means, want the bedtime story renditions anymore. Looking over the railing from their place right above the main floor, Daniel saw a figure approaching his father. The man looked familiar, but he was just a tad too far away for him to solidly make out.

"I see you winter in the Hamptons too now," the man's cello-like voice said with a tinge of sarcasm, and Daniel froze.

He watched as his father turned around slowly, and in pure and utter shock, greeted the man: "Creighton?" Daniel felt his knees go weak, and Emily whipped around quickly, at hearing the name. The other Grayson son had finally returned home…

* * *

My goodness, 3,000+ words! I never thought I'd see the day! Haha. Hopefully this chapter wasn't too scrambled, but I'm so, so, SO happy to get the plot moving. I also hope that you guys enjoyed the Daniel/Emily moments? I've gotten many reviews asking for more of their romance, and I'm sorry for such a lack of it in chapters past. I sincerely hope you all like the chapter!

_Reviews are love!_


	12. Big Brother is Watching You

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Twelve_

'_Big Brother is Watching You'_

Conrad couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His suit was enclosing tightly around his body, and he felt utterly suffocated. Creighton was walking towards him; his slick saunter hadn't faded at all since the last time he'd seen him. He was everything Conrad wasn't, and everything he'd ever craved to be. Creighton threw caution to the wind like it was ritual, and questioned everything and everyone, not caring if it dethroned pleasantries. And that was why Father had always distanced himself from Creighton's reckless spirit. Father was a man of tradition and unshakable views—changing him was like trying to remold a mountain with your bare hands. It could not be done. Conrad had learned this through Creighton's many attempts at doing just that, and had seen his big brother get shot down time and again. Maybe it was because of this, that Conrad had grown to be the disciplined man; daddy's little soldier. What terrified him though was that he didn't mind it. For all of his desire to be like Creighton, something kept him from reaching for it completely. That was, until Flight 197. When the memory whooshed over him, he felt his entire world swirling. To keep himself from falling on to the hard tiled surface, he began to speak.

"Creighton," he began rather quietly, "what a surprise. I would have figured Fiji would be the more desirable destination in the wintertime." He laughed politely, hoping the guests around him would not suspect any tension. It was well known that Creighton didn't frequent New York very often, but Conrad wasn't about to let on just how rarely he showed his face.

Creighton returned the laugh, the flute-like sound piercing through Conrad's heart. _Why is he back… _"Sometimes it's nice to return to New York when you've forgotten what winter is supposed to feel like," he replied; his savvy social flare hadn't lost its touch. If Conrad hadn't had known him so well, he would have swooned at his brother's luscious words. No matter how reckless Creighton may be, he was still a better businessman than Conrad could ever hope to be—in the social aspect, anyway. His older brother was an absolute tragedy when it came to numbers and investments.

"Nothing like a New York winter," Conrad said tensely. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, I'm going to show my brother to the bar." The men around the two Graysons nodded politely, and supplied stiff smiles; hardly even a tiny curve.

"Wonderful to see you all again," Creighton said as they parted, and he followed Conrad away from the crowd, and was lead to his brother's office. The large mahogany door was ominous and dead, and he swiftly remembered how grateful he was not to be a part of this world anymore.

Conrad held the door open for him, and then looked intensely at the area around them, closing the heavy mahogany when he saw no one in sight. He turned around sharply, meeting Creighton's eyes with not the slightest bit of fear. As children, his older brother had always been a source of both mystique and uneasiness, but now, Conrad couldn't care less about his childhood feelings. To him, Creighton was no more than a mandatory business partner, bound together by blood rather than contract. Or, at least that's what he tried to convince himself of.

"What are you doing here," Conrad asked. His blue eyes didn't emulate the iciness within him, and he was furious with himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't show any hostility towards his brother—it was both his weakness and his curse.

"I saw Laura on the news," Creighton said. "Since she cleared us, I figured it was safe to come back. I'm sure father's missed me." Conrad couldn't miss the sarcasm in his brother's voice; things between him and their father had only grown worse over the years. Time doesn't heal wounds; it claws at them until they bleed continuously, creating a sea of red hatred. Love was not an easy concept for the Grayson family.

"It's not," Conrad said harshly. The surprise was just as great on his own face as it was on Creighton's. He quickly composed himself. "Laura warned me some of the SEC isn't convinced; apparently whoever tipped them off is a reliable source. You can't be here, it's not safe yet."

"What can they pin on us," Creighton said with a blithe tone, "everything's destroyed." He positioned himself comfortably in Conrad's chair, crossing his arms. The younger Grayson clenched his fists, doing everything in his power not to retaliate. Creighton was his brother—the sacred person with whom Conrad had grown up with. No matter what he may have done, he was still that cherished sibling. Nothing could change that.

Conrad hesitated, not wanting to reply. "Not everything's gone," he told Creighton, shifting his eyes to the ground from his brother's face. He could almost hear Creighton grinding his teeth, and he inwardly shuddered.

"What do you mean not everything's gone," Creighton interrogated his brother tensely. All the aspects of their father's wrath had been passed down to Creighton, and the memories terrified Conrad. It was not his brother whom he feared—it was who his brother was acting like. He assumed he too, had his father's wrathful spirit, but in Creighton it was different—it was more condensed. It didn't come out often, but when it did, God Almighty would have to prepare himself for the earthquake.

"There's a copy of the transactions left," Conrad said stiffly. The company was _his_; he shouldn't have to explain himself to his brother. Creighton had made one too many mistakes and their father had kicked him to the curb. Vincent Grayson could take the drinking, could grudgingly forgive the tardiness, but what he could not stand was the loss of a client. Creighton's engagement to Olivia Marques had been a powerful necessity for Grayson Global; her father, Robert Marques, was a big time billionaire, and had entrusted all of his money in the company. After rumor had circulated throughout the New York elite of Creighton's affair, the engagement was cut off, and Marques's money withdrawn from Grayson Global. It was the biggest loss in the company's history, and Vincent had never forgiven his son. All Conrad was grateful for though, was that Laura had gone unscathed in the whole debacle.

"Why would you keep such a thing?" Creighton's tone was almost watery, perhaps apprehension beginning to build within him. Conrad froze; what was he to tell his brother? If he was completely honest with himself, he didn't know why he'd kept the thing… in retrospect it was the wrong decision. But it somehow made him feel like he had a connection to Creighton; had something that could bring him back. _Or take him away…_

"I don't know," Conrad whispered, almost guiltily. "They won't find it."

"Where is it?" Creighton was stern, but it didn't affect Conrad in the slightest. The longer his brother was around him, the more defiant and strong he became. He supposed some of Creighton's caution to the wind spark rubbed off on him.

"Somewhere safe. But what really brings you here, Creighton? It's not just because you think you can now." Conrad crossed his arms, and advanced towards his brother, itching to whip the chair right out from under him.

Creighton tapped his fingers on the fine wooden desk, and bit his lip. "I owe people money, Conrad. I need my inheritance; I know father still has it." When Marques had left, all his money in hand, Vincent had stripped Creighton of his inheritance money, and all of his shares in the company.

"I can't do that," Conrad replied, a bit of remorse in his voice. "When father handed over the company to me, he told me I could do what I thought was right with the money, and I did." His features didn't even flinch, despite being under Creighton's dark glare.

"Where is it," he bit out heatedly, leaning forward harshly in Conrad's chair. There was desperation hidden under his layers of anger; Conrad could sense it. Despite their differences, their emotions were never far from the other's mind.

"I put half of it in Daniel's trust fund, the other in Charlotte's. I figured keeping it in the family was best."

"But you took it from _me_," Creighton shot back, pointing at his chest sharply. Conrad shook his head.

"After everything that happened and all that you'd done, your interests weren't the first thing on my mind. I take care of my children, Creighton," he said proudly, "and apparently yours as well. The second your money was gone, you stopped sending the checks. Joseph deserves more than that."

"Don't," Creighton silenced his brother bitterly, "I don't need this. I came here for help, and you just turn me away. What happened to being brothers, Conrad, huh?" All distant politeness was gone from his words, and only the bare and hurting truth remained.

"I've done more than I ever should have to help you; I'm not doing anything more. You have to leave." Conrad stood tall, eyeing his brother until he knew he meant business. Creighton sighed harshly, his eyes the stormiest hue of blue Conrad had ever seen. It was almost sinister looking, and he knew he'd just made an enemy.

"How dare you," Creighton fired in response as he blew past Conrad and out of the office. The door whipped back harshly, hitting the wall with brutal violence. Conrad cringed when he heard the contact. His heart pounding a mile a minute, and adrenaline spiked, he breathed heavily. _Welcome home, brother..._

* * *

Wow, it took me _forever _to update! I'm so sorry everyone, school is a bitch. I figured I'd try to flesh out a bit of the Conrad/Creighton relationship before moving forward a lot. (Sorry it's a tad short, by the way). I've hinted at some plot points, so I do hope it wasn't too boring. Next chapter will be more of Daniel's reaction, and certainly some Daniel/Emily romance. ;) I hope you all liked it!

_Reviews are love!_


	13. Nostalgia is Doom and Dooming

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Thirteen _

'_Nostalgia is Doom and Dooming' _

Daniel hadn't moved his hands from the railing of the balcony since he'd seen Creighton pass by. There seemed to be some silent deference in him which kept him from rushing down the stairs to embrace his long lost uncle—something embedded deep within Daniel; some habitual ritual of distance. Or possibly he was just uneasy about seeing Creighton after such a long time apart. Whatever the reason, Daniel's eyes were a stormy mess of emotions that hadn't seen the light of day in years—they were deep, sharp cuts penetrating to the soul. Emily had never seen him so vulnerable—something within her cracked, and for a moment she considered the idea that Daniel was just as lonely as she was. Having parents around didn't mean they were truly _there_—they were just vacant vessels full of faltered expectations. Spinning her engagement ring around her finger, she put her hand on his shoulder tentatively. He flinched at her touch, as if battered and beaten for years; it was almost as if his bones would crumble completely under her light hand. Biting her lip, it became agonizingly clear that Daniel had downplayed just how much losing his uncle had affected him. He was Peter Pan after Tinkerbell had died, finally having to face the sad music of reality, and no strength left to declare 'I do believe in fairies'—the magic in his features was clawed away by Hook's menacing hooked left hand.

Emily watched in angst as she saw Creighton storm across the tile floor, furiously typing a number into his phone. Obviously his visit hadn't gone well. From her distant position, she could still catch him saying "Get me Bill Harmon", but she couldn't bring herself to abandon Daniel to chase after him. Her fiancée was off in a far away world where everything was bleak and the environment around him was simply a cruel joke—she could not leave him; her sentiment wouldn't allow her to. Her mind screamed at her to figure out what Creighton Grayson was doing calling Bill Harmon, and all empirical logic told her Creighton was worth ten times what Daniel was. Her heart silenced them all though, and she breathed deeply.

"Are you okay?" It came out as a crackled mess, her lips and throat too dry to sound remotely human. Daniel paid no mind to it though, and simply turned to face her, his eyes like a rainbow crushed by cement. Emily wanted to urgently tell him to explain everything to her, but she remained silent.

"F—Fine," Daniel replied, sounding in no way reassuring. _This is what a broken man truly looks like_, Emily thought to herself, and tried to picture her fiancée's glowing smile—no image would come to mind, though. His darkness was contagious, and she began to feel his pain. They weren't as different as she had originally believed.

'You're obviously not," she told him with a bit more strength; she wanted to help him—be the stronger person for him. Her personal woes couldn't get in the way of the real tragedy at hand. "Daniel, I'm here to help you; let me in." She wrapped her hand firmly on his forearm, and he closed his eyes momentarily. His body was a collapsing dream on the inside.

"He left," Daniel returned blankly, "again." Whatever magic dust was left in his soul had vanished, and he was falling headfirst out of the skies, and right towards Hook's sharp sword. "Why does he always leave?" His voice was boyish, tragic innocence flooding his tone—well, fragile and broken innocence to be more accurate. Emily bit back the rumbling feeling of tears within her. It broke her heart into billions of shattered pieces to see Daniel like this—he was the light; light isn't supposed to know pain.

"He never said goodbye?" Emily asked weakly, feeling foolish the moment the words left her mouth. The question seemed to oddly lull Daniel, and he leaned in closer to her. The second star to the right was still fading from his eye.

"No," he returned, "he just left; and then forgot. We were so close once, and then he was just gone." The events of the past were obviously perplexing to Daniel, and he was lost. Emily stayed silent, listening intently for him to speak again. She couldn't quite understand what had come over her—she had been so talented at separating passions from logic, but now they bled into one, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. "He was the one I used to play catch with; he was the one who taught me how to throw a football. He played Bob Dylan records, and taught me to go after what I wanted. How could he do all of those things, and then just vanish? He's not heartless; he can't be." Daniel's eyes were the dark clouds hovering around Big Ben, but this time Peter, Wendy, John, and Michael weren't flying by; the sky was silent.

Emily couldn't help but think of her own father and all that he had done for her—she could certainly relate to Daniel's immense feeling of loss, and presented him a sad smile before laying her head on his shoulder. Somehow he still felt strong to her—he was that sense of hope; that little whisper in the back of her mind saying 'Everything's going to be okay'. She could feel his heavy breathing, and lifted her head up to look at him.

"I have no doubt he loves you," she said supportively. That had been the only reassurance to get her though the jailing of her father; love couldn't be lost, despite the obstacles. She firmly believed that to be true, despite her cold exterior.

"Loved," Daniel corrected blackly. "He can't preach about the future and potential, and then just leave unexpectedly. He said to trust people, Emily, to expect the best from them. And what does he do? He breaks that trust. How is that love? Even my father isn't that low. Why did I listen to him, huh?" A mild tinge of fury was firing up in his voice, and Emily knew it was a protective shield.

"Because you wanted to, Daniel," she replied simply. "Just because _he _broke your trust, doesn't mean his advice is wrong." She couldn't believe what she was saying; a part of her didn't even believe her words. "Trust and forgiveness are the only ways to get towards some sort of peace." _That's a lie_, she thought, but then again, Daniel had proven trustworthy… maybe forgiveness wasn't as black and white as she'd always believed.

"I can't forgive him, Emily. I was eight, and he left without a goodbye or explanation. He _abandoned_ me, and left me to fend for myself. My mother tried to read to me and be around more often, but she wasn't my uncle. He was closer to a father than Conrad could ever be. But now, I'm not so sure. At least Conrad is still here." Reality was closing in on him, and the vision of Neverland was fading away fast. The medicine was becoming real, and he could no longer ward off Captain James Hook—Peter Pan was dying the death of contaminated life, and the leaves on the trees were shriveling and falling. Daniel was no longer a lost boy; he was a man set on the bitter course of revenge, choosing London over Neverland. This was not the way Wendy wanted him to come with her.

* * *

My wonderful, wonderful readers and reviewers; has it been forever, or has it been forever? I am so sorry for being so AWOL recently. I had three essays to do and a book review, so FanFiction was sadly not on the To Do List. But, I'm back! I hope you don't mind that it's a feelings based chapter; at least there was some Daniel and Emily, right? I'm crossing my fingers that next chapter will be more plot. I hope you all enjoyed it!

_Reviews are love!_


	14. Family Ties and Honest Lies

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Fourteen_

'_Family Ties and Honest Lies'_

Conrad gripped his pen tightly, until he felt the clip digging harshly into his palm. The pain reminded him this wasn't a dream. Creighton had come into his office, spurring memories of years long since passed, and he was in New York again—so close, so vivid, so _real. _There was no pretending Creighton was gone. Finally releasing the pen from his grasp, Conrad realized his hand was shaking. His nerves were going haywire, and no matter how deeply he breathed, they would not calm. His brother had such an ill affect on him; he could hardly remember why he missed him. This was wrong—all wrong. Conrad had sacrificed so much for his brother: his dignity, his marriage, his happiness… everything he held dear. And for what? For Creighton to come back seventeen years later lobbying for money? The man was a snake. But rattlesnakes don't commit suicide—they just linger with their bloodthirsty eyes, the menacing slits like doorways into Hell. Conrad's chest tightened and he heard the doorknob to his office being turned. Victoria emerged from behind the deep wooden structure, more elegant than ever. As she approached him, he felt his tremor finally calm; her thick dark hair was like a childhood lullaby, lulling him into comfort. It had been years since Victoria made him feel that way—the feeling that had compelled him to propose; the feeling that would not let him leave her even after he'd found out about David; the feeling which made her appear human instead of stone. There was worry in her eyes, and Conrad leaned forward in his chair.

"Was that Creighton I just saw walking out of our home?" Her voice was oddly level, but the concern was still apparent in her molten dark eyes. She walked closer to the desk, twisting her wedding band around her finger. It'd been weeks since she'd worn it last, and Conrad knew it must feel odd against her skin now. A piece of his heart broke at that.

"I'm afraid so," Conrad replied, still coming to terms with the reality of Creighton's visit. Seemingly out of breath, Victoria took a seat in the chair across from him, her eyes intently on his.

"What could he possibly have wanted? After all of these years?" Victoria shook her head slightly. Conrad's frown deepened. She didn't know the true story of why he left. But today was certainly not the day to explain—especially with guests in the next room. He set his intertwined hands on his desk.

"Money," Conrad told her, "it's always about money." He couldn't keep from tapping the side of his knuckle to a nervous beat. Victoria put her hand over his, to make them silent. The coldness of her ring seemed to freeze Conrad's index finger. He looked up to her.

"Did you give it to him?" Victoria's tone was already filling with accusation, and Conrad suddenly felt timid under her touch. He shook his head.

"No," he said quietly, "I told him I had nothing left to give him." A shadow of a smile crossed her features, but it was swift, silent, and quickly gone. Conrad longed for the day that he could make her smile again—smile as she did before Flight 197.

Victoria was silent for a moment, her hand still on top of Conrad's. "Do you think Daniel saw him?" Her voice was broken, her weakness showing through. He gave her a sad little smile, breathing in deeply before replying.

"I don't know. I think it would have been hard for him to miss him." Conrad would always be angry with Creighton, if for nothing else, for abandoning Daniel. It was not unclear to him that his son had always seen his brother as the father he wanted. Conrad had come to terms with this agonizing fact years ago. But if his son's old wounds were to be ripped open again, he didn't know if he could take it. Daniel had always been so precious to him.

"I certainly hope he didn't. There is no telling what kind of reaction Daniel might have." Victoria finally retracted her hand from Conrad's, yet her eyes still lingered on his ring. He spun it a tad with his thumb until she looked away.

"He's stronger than you're giving him credit for, Victoria. I'm sure he'll take it better than you're anticipating." Conrad's confidence was slowly building, but his wife did not seem convinced.

"I've learned to expect the worst," she replied to him, getting out of her chair. Her figure was both rapture and fragility, colliding into one mass of powerful beauty. Conrad was haunted by her words as he stared at her retreating form. Suddenly she stopped and turned around. "We have guests to entertain. I suggest you come out of your office." There was no real friendly suggestion in her voice, and Conrad mechanically did what he was told. _I've learned to expect the worst_, he quoted in his head. He'd turned her into a pessimist. All of her life-loving, happy-go-lucky outlook was vanquished, and it was all his fault. He touched his ring again, just so he'd never forget what it felt like in its rightful place.

* * *

Daniel's rocky emotions had finally come to some steady decrease, and Emily was overcome with relief. As much as she was pleased he was feeling better again, she was truly relieved because she could peruse Creighton now. Her morality compass was spinning out of control, but she knew she'd pay no attention to where it pointed her to. She was going to find Creighton, and figure out why he had taken an interest in Bill Harmon—not even Daniel could stop her from doing that. Leaning beside him against the balcony, she stroked his arm.

"Thank you," he said dimly, "for being here." Daniel gave her a grateful smile, and Emily felt the guilt building up in the pit of her stomach.

"Always," she said. "But um, I actually have to go. I'm not feeling too well." The excuse was stupid and she knew it, but it was all she could think of on the spot as Daniel's caring eyes looked at her lovingly.

"I'll come with you," Daniel said immediately, and Emily smiled sadly. Taking his hand in hers, she shook her head.

"No, no, you stay here. Maybe try to talk to your dad some more. I'll be fine by myself." Her thick stare compelled Daniel to back down, and he took his hand out of hers. Disappointment and loneliness swirled in his eyes, but Emily would not notice it, for fear of giving in to him.

"Feel better," he told her, "I love you." Emily nodded, ignoring her nausea.

"Love you too," she returned before going down the stairs and out the door. Once outside, the brisk wind hit her with full impact. She cursed the cold, and pulled her phone out of her purse as she handed her ticket to the valet to get her car.

"Cupcake," Nolan answered the phone sarcastically, "it's Valentine's Day. Don't your evil schemes ever rest?" Emily rolled her eyes.

"Can you track a cell phone?" She was in no mood for Nolan's games—especially not today, with Daniel left alone in his parents' house. The guilt was eating her alive.

"Whose personal life are we intruding on today?"

"Creighton Grayson," Emily replied darkly, as her car was stopped in front of her. She supplied the valet with a sweet smile and generous tip before getting in.

"He's in town? If only he knew about the little leech living next to his brother—probably would've changed his vacation plans." Emily gripped her phone tighter, about ready to wring Nolan's neck. She sighed sharply.

"Can you do it or not," she bit out jaggedly. No one ever really got to Emily Throne, save for Nolan Ross and Daniel Grayson. One annoyed her to insanity, the other making her too human for her liking. They pulled and prodded at her, yet she couldn't live without either of them. They were Nolan and Daniel—irreplaceable.

"It's not a question of can, but of will. What's in it for me?" Nolan returned, snickering. He knew she hated the question, and he could never resist prompting her explosive personality.

"I thought we were past this," Emily said tiredly. She hadn't wanted his help in the first place, and now he was asking for special treatment. Unbelievable.

"At least tell me why I'm stalking Creighton Grayson," Nolan reasoned, and Emily buckled. She could never really explain why she gave in to Nolan so easily, but somehow she always did. Maybe it was because he was one of the last living memories of her father; or possibly he was too supportive of a crutch for her to abandon. Whatever the reason, it made her feel weak; and that was one think Amanda Clarke could never be.

"He's interested in contacting Bill Harmon," she said dryly. Her mind was whirling with reasons why he'd want anything to do with Bill, but nothing of sound logic crossed her mind.

"Harmon's a burnout," Nolan noted, "especially after his fiasco of your doing. What could Creighton possibly want with him?" Emily rolled her eyes.

"That's why I need to find him," Emily said on the verge of anger. Nolan may be brilliant, but his logic abilities were incredibly low it seemed.

"Fine, fine, hold on. Let Nolan do his voodoo."

"Have you figured anything out about the checks he was sending Laura?" Emily asked, growing impatient with Nolan's silence on the matter. She was a woman of promptness, and Nolan Ross was anything but that. He drove her utterly insane.

"No, only that he and Conrad both sent them, and for the same purpose: 'medical'." Emily sighed at Nolan's words. That wasn't much help. She wondered what 'medical' purpose they referred to, but she'd figure it out somehow. The hypothesis of a pregnancy wouldn't leave her mind, but she wouldn't jump to any conclusions without some tangible proof.

"Why would they be sending her checks for medical reasons?" Emily stupidly asked out loud. Nolan's type of unanswerable questions was wearing off on her. She hated how he influenced her.

"I'm not a check whisperer, Ems. I can only tell you what I see. " She knew Nolan was right, but she wanted something more. Anything more. She hated not being able to figure something out about the Graysons—it made her feel like they had power over her.

"Your buddy Creighton is at the Stowaway, Ems," Nolan told her before ending the call. He was never the one to hang up first, so Emily stared at her phone completely puzzled, before throwing it onto the seat next to her. _Damn it, why did he have to be at the Stowaway? _Both Jack and Creighton in one place was overwhelming to Emily's guilt-filled head, but she had no choice but to go.

* * *

I swear I haven't given up on this story. School was _so _overwhelming these past few weeks, so I'm sorry for leaving you all out to dry. But, I'm back and on break, so I can update much sooner. This chapter was just for me to get back into the swing of things, so next chapter will be much more plot. I already have it planned out: some Daniel/Emily, a dinner, a Stowaway conversation, and a new love interest of Charlotte's. I'm hoping within the next few days (probably after Christmas) I can update. I hope you all have had nice holidays/upcoming holidays, and also that you liked this chapter alright.

_Reviews are love!_


	15. Peace is a Fragile Concept

_I'll Love You Better Now_

_Fifteen _

'_Peace is a Fragile Concept' _

Gripping on the slightly wobbly doorknob of the Stowaway, its weakness was quite akin to the feeling churning in her stomach. Emily was used to being so confident; so sure. But as she began to turn the knob, all of her pride and power began to splinter into piercing pieces, scraping down her insides like iron nails— the now inevitable conversation with Creighton was terrifying her to shreds. Breathing in sharply and scolding herself for her cowardice, she opened the door, hearing the little bell ring above her. A few eyes around the room flickered in her direction to see who the newcomer was—one of those people happened to be Creighton—sitting ominously at the bar, hand wrapped around a sweating glass. She recognized those graying eyes as if they were coming to life from a recurring nightmare. All of Daniel's pain and abandonment began to fill her windpipe, and she felt herself losing her hold on courage. It cackled at her with a sinister flare, darkly taunting her feebleness, and roaring that she had no right to conjure its power. Gulping down the fire of doubt, she edged her way towards the bar, and Jack noticed her approaching form. He smiled that brilliant smile of his, but for the first time, Emily felt no passion in return. Nodding with a tiny smile, she coolly sat down next to Creighton. He shot a glance her way, but his features gave no hint to his state of mind. By the way he gripped the glass though; it was obvious he was on edge. Emily fiddled her fingers, feeling the pang of nervousness Daniel was sure to have felt when he saw Creighton, spreading over her body like radioactive poison.

"What can I get you, Emily?" Jack was leaning on the bar table, arms crossed, looking at her attentively. She tried to hide her shock at his sudden appearance, but Creighton's pinewood scent clouded all of her strength. She fumbled for her words.

"Uh, I, uh… I'll just take a single malt scotch," she finally mumbled, sinking into her seat. Jack nodded to her quizzically—Emily had never been a scotch person. A nice chardonnay perhaps or a shot of vodka now and then, but never scotch. That was Daniel's usual—he held the drink to such a high regard, it might as well be holy. She licked her lips.

Jack came back over, sliding the drink in her direction. "Thanks, Jack," she told him quietly.

"An acquired taste," Creighton commented slickly, "cheers." He held up his glass, and the liquid looked identical to hers. It finally hit her that Daniel might have received his love for scotch from Creighton—or, more accurately, from the memory of him. She raised her drink as well, and heard the little clink of their glasses hitting. Downing the alcohol in its entirety, she felt the dragon-like burn seethe down her throat. After the initial harshness though, the aftertaste was soothing. It still did not have enough strength to quell the haunting guilt in the back of her mind: she had left Daniel to talk to his long lost uncle. There was something unsavory about that, which hit Emily the wrong way.

"Rough day?" Creighton asked. His graying eyes latched onto hers, and she felt like a doe in headlights. There was something so sinisterly alluring about him—and if there was one thing that terrified Emily Thorne, it was the unknown. Perhaps that's why she had held onto Jack when she first came back to the Hamptons—she knew exactly what to expect from him. With Daniel, anything was possible; she could end up in Neverland just as easily as she could in London.

"You could say that," she replied, keeping the details as vague as possible. Some scorching newfound courage boiled within her, driving her to get right to the point with a stab. "My fiancée's uncle just came back today—he hadn't seen him in years, and then all of a sudden, there he was. As you can imagine, it was traumatic for him." Emily lifted her fierce caramel eyes to Creighton, hinting venomously to the fact that he was the culprit. The man seemed to stiffly get her insinuation or at least, the guilt made him think of his own situation—which coincidentally were the same.

"Surely," he replied tightly, grinding his teeth. There was a darkness overcoming him, so massive and looming, Emily felt herself disappearing into it—it seemed to encompass her soul, not willing to rest until it ripped it from her chest. Keeping her strength at least superficially intact, she tapped her fingers on the table. Creighton's eyes shot down to the hand, and he appeared agonizingly annoyed with its movements. It was the very least she could do to avenge Daniel's pain. Creighton ran his tongue over his teeth.

"Actually," Emily said with facetious energy, "you might know him. Does the name Daniel ring a bell?" She looked at him with a questioning stare, her eyes seeming to shoot hemlock right into his heart. There was no death quite as painful as the slow destruction of the nervous system—the utter annihilation of feeling—something Daniel had probably experienced more times than deemed humane. Emily had all the rage in the world building up inside her slight form, and it had only one target.

"Who are you," Creighton bit out harshly, his voice seeming to get stuck in a guilt-dug crevice in his throat. No matter how smooth he tried to make himself appear, he was raw on the inside. Complete loneliness and isolation does not have charity for the preservation of the soul. He was like a striker with not a single prayer of being heard—he was pushed into a corner so deep and dark, no one would even attempt to search for him. Nothing can be as unbearable as being utterly alone; knowing that even your own flesh and blood family wants nothing to do with you. There is something so raw and primeval about being in such a state; such a condition. If anything else, the feeling of total weakness will kill you before the actual isolation. Creighton tightened his grip on his glass, not taking his eyes from Emily.

"Emily Throne," she bit back just as harshly. "Your nephew's fiancée." Her eyes were as good as black now, the hemlock glare only growing in devastating intensity.

"Jesus," he whispered under his breath, "it's been that long." Any kind of slick oil that may have greased his tone was completely gone, leaving nothing but the choppy, caught, feeble sound of defeat. A subtle tremor grew in his hand, and the shaking glass caught the light of the fading sun. It flashed with brightness, and then was gone with an undertone of death, and Emily felt herself shiver. Creighton was no longer threatening to her, but there was still some lingering feeing she couldn't quite put her finger on. Some feeling which kept her from relaxing entirely. Perhaps it was some cruel trick of guilt, or some confused state of limbo, of whether to sympathize with Creighton or not.

"I don't understand how you could leave him like that," Emily said, feeling some of that boiling hatred cool down. She hated how his weak side was making her less of a lioness—she felt herself falling into the traps of Graysons more often than she'd like. They were swiftly transforming her back into the little girl she was before her father had been taken away. It was odd—the people who had been responsible for stealing her innocence and childhood were the ones who were giving it back to her; with a diamond ring as a happy little bonus. She was bitterly pleased. Never in her life had she been such a contradiction.

"To be frank," Creighton said, eyes like daggers, "what happened with my family all those years ago is none of your business. You may be Daniel's fiancée, but there are still things that are kept solely between _family_." He crossed his arms, and Emily didn't know what to do in reply. She was honestly and truly stunned, with no clear coping method for what he had just said to her.

Emily got up from her seat throwing a ten dollar bill on the table, her body feeling like stone. "I may not be your family, yet, but I love Daniel; and he deserves an explanation from you." Creighton had successfully broken her. Broken her to the point where she couldn't even bring herself to speak of Bill Harmon. There would always be time to reveal Creighton's slimy ways; but there was a certain limit on what could be done while she was in this state. All she wanted was to go home and hug Daniel; be with him. All of Creighton's loneliness was rubbing off on her. Turning on her heel, finally not getting trapped in the man's graying eyes, and walked out the door, hearing that little bell ring above her.

* * *

My goodness, I can't believe it's been over a month since I've updated. I apologize to all of my readers, and really hope that you all can forgive me. I have a plan for next chapter(s) (It's all the stuff I promised in the AN of the previous chapter, haha). I also know that this was a chapter heavy on inner thought; as always, I do this to test the waters of a character, so bear with me here, haha. Next chapter, I'm hoping I can have more of a dialogue. (I always feel like I say "in the next chapter I promise", haha). Alright, I'll shut up now, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :D

_Reviews are love!_


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